Ode to Joy
by Truish
Summary: Sequel to Leap of Faith. After Heero's disappearance, his daughter Faith returns to space to try and sort things out. But what was supposed to be a quick trip turns into a series of delays and catastrophies as she faces new trials.
1. Chapter 1

Boy, it sure feels good to be back! Okay, folks, here's the deal—if you don't know who I am or if you're new to my work, I highly advise you read through this first section. However, if you do know who I am and what this is, feel free to skip the next couple of paragraphs unless you're just dying to read a page or so of notes.

_Ode to Joy_ is the sequel to my last story, _Leap of Faith._ It jumps right in where we left off, so if you haven't read _Leap of Faith_ yet, you're going to be completely lost. I know _Faith_ is a long story, but the response has been so overwhelmingly positive that I don't feel like I'm bragging (much) when I say that I think you'll enjoy it. If you haven't read it yet, at least scan through the first five chapters. If you aren't hooked after Chapter Five, well, sorry I wasted your time. Those of you who are strictly yaoi fans probably won't go for it because I mostly stick with het pairings, but give it a shot if you have some time on your hands.

One last warning **(spoiler alert)**: This isn't going to be quite the rollercoaster that _Leap of Faith_ was. There are plenty of twists and turns, but it's mostly a slow build to a pretty big finish. That being said, there are more characters involved and chapters will probably be longer to incorporate the extra storylines. Unfortunately, this means that updates might end up being a little slower than we'd all like. I'll do my best to establish a good publishing routine, but I can't make any guarantees at the moment.

Okay. I think that's all I needed to say. Let's get started, shall we?

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday April 2, AC 215<strong>

The black car hurtled down the highway at a speed that was more appropriate for the race track than a public thoroughfare. There was no other traffic to present a challenge at two in the morning, though, and the Preventer-issued license plates kept police from interrupting the driver's late-night mission with frivolous traffic stops.

It was a good thing, too, considering that Faith didn't have her license yet. The Porsche wasn't exactly hers, either. Two weeks ago, she'd been too scared to even touch the car, but now she understood that fear was relative. Faith didn't have time for something as petty as a fear of driving. She had bigger things to worry about.

Such as the fact that nobody, not even the Preventers, cared that terrorists had taken her dad hostage. They all kept saying that he was just undercover and that going after him would violate Directive Zero-One, which forbade anyone from interfering with an agent on a covert mission. It was all such garbage. Faith knew better, even if her mom and the Preventers were happier with the wool over their eyes. Her dad wasn't coming back on his own. He'd as much as told her so when he'd turned himself over to the Red Fang two weeks ago.

"_You'll understand someday, when you have a son or daughter of your own, Faith." _

No, he wasn't coming back—he wouldn't have said that if he planned on returning. Faith cranked up the radio, hoping to drown out the echo in her memory. She didn't need to hear that again. Instead of listening and giving in to her urge to scream, Faith kept her foot steady on the gas as she sped away from her mother's seaside villa and toward the only place on Earth that kept her sane these days.

* * *

><p>Relena Darlian sat at the kitchen table, staring at her cooling cup of tea as she waited for her late-night snack to finish cooking. It seemed like her entire life had unraveled over the course of the past few weeks, and things didn't look like they were going to improve anytime soon. The ESUN Senate had decided to conduct an official investigation into the cover-up surrounding Faith's disappearance as a child, and Relena had a feeling that the upcoming trial was going to be nasty.<p>

The oven timer beeped and Relena hopped up to retrieve her frozen pizza. On top of everything else, her housekeeper had quit and Relena suddenly found herself trying to juggle household chores in addition to dragging her reputation out of the mud and keeping tabs on her rebellious teenage daughter.

Her daughter, the straight-A student and amateur engineer, who had snuck out _again_. Relena huffed at the memory of Faith's empty bed and reached into the cabinet for a jar of jalapenos. Two weeks ago the girl had quaked in fear at the mention of driving lessons and now she "borrowed" Heero's Porsche every time Relena turned her back. It was infuriating, to say the least. Relena started forking jalapenos onto her pizza, hoping to make the cardboard crust and greasy sausage a little more palatable. At least her appetite had finally returned, even if everything else in her life was going wrong.

"That pizza looks like the worst case of heartburn I've ever seen. Please tell me you're planning on sharing."

Relena started guiltily when her unofficial sister-in-law, Lucrezia Noin, stumbled into the kitchen. She hadn't meant to wake anyone. But since Lucy was up, Relena thought it was probably as good a time as any to get a few things off her chest. Confidentiality agreement or no, there were some things Relena just couldn't tell her psychiatrist.

"Help yourself," she said, capping the jalapenos and putting the jar back into the cabinet. "Faith is gone again, by the way."

"_Damn_ it!" Lucy muttered as she tossed a couple of slices of jalapeno-sausage-pepperoni pizza onto a plate. "I guess I should have hidden the distributor cap a little better. I didn't think she'd know how to put it back."

"Don't beat yourself up," Relena replied. "She's been helping Duo fix cars since she was big enough to hold the tools. I'm more worried about the fact that she doesn't seem to feel like she can discuss this with anyone. She used to be so—open. And now she hides everything."

Lucy frowned as she chewed and swallowed a bite of her pizza. "What about the GPS tracker we installed in the car?" she asked. "Did you at least figure out where she's going?"

Relena pursed her lips. "I was able to follow her movements as far as the shelf in the garage. Faith must have found the tracker when she was reinstalling the distributor cap. She really seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to machinery. It isn't your fault, Lucy."

Lucy made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. Relena sympathized. Lucy was really trying her hardest to help Faith adjust to life on Earth and Faith wasn't exactly making it easy.

"I do know where she's going," Relena said hesitantly. "Do you remember the old Sanc capital? The school? I got a call from the head groundskeeper earlier. He said someone's been using a lot of electricity lately, and Heero's car has been parked outside more often than usual. He wanted to know what was going on, in case he needed to warn the maintenance crew of anything."

The pizza slid out of Lucy's hands and back onto her plate. A jalapeno slice rolled across the table and onto the floor. Relena scooped it up before Torstin could find it and decide to sample it. The last thing she needed was a sick dog.

"My Taurus is down there. I put it into storage in that hangar after the war," Lucy said. Her chair crashed to the floor as she leaped to her feet. "Relena, we have to stop Faith. If anybody sees a mobile suit on the loose, they're going to assume it's an attack and shoot it down. She's going to get hurt!"

That didn't seem likely to Relena. Even as agitated as she was, Faith was too smart to go joyriding in a mobile suit. At the very least, she wouldn't take Lucy's suit when she had something much more powerful at her disposal.

"That old Taurus is the least of our worries," Relena replied calmly. "Wing Zero, on the other hand, could be a bit of a problem."

Lucy went very pale, and then very red. She sank slowly back into her chair and stared at the tabletop. Relena ate her pizza and waited for her friend to organize her thoughts. It was a lot to take in, especially since the gundam had been all but destroyed after the Mariemaia uprising.

"You're keeping a _gundam_ in that place?" Lucy demanded. "Relena! What are you _thinking_? How can you just sit there and eat junk food while Faith is-is—"

"Faith couldn't have found Wing Zero on her own," Relena replied. "You know how tight security is, and how well the mobile suit hangar is hidden. Heero must have taken her down there before he—left."

Lucy was quiet after that and Relena decided to focus on her snack before it got as cold and unpalatable as the cup of tea by her elbow. The jalapenos were a good idea and Relena's pizza was gone before she was completely satisfied. Lucy pushed her plate across the table; apparently it wasn't to her taste. But that was fine. _More for me,_ Relena thought as she devoured the last piece.

"What are you going to do, Relena?" Lucy asked. "You can't just let Faith run wild like this. One way or another, she's going to get hurt. Even if Heero did have something to do with this, Faith can_not_ take Wing Zero out of that hangar. Can you imagine what would happen if people found out a gundam is still in existence?"

Relena sighed as she stared down at the empty plates. It would be disastrous if the public found out about Wing Zero, especially given her current situation. She'd only found one reasonable solution to this problem, and she wasn't really happy about it. But she would do anything to keep Faith safe. Even if it meant giving her up again.

"I'm sending Faith back to space," Relena said. "It's what she wants, and it'll keep her away from Wing Zero. And—she might tell Duo about what's bothering her. She pretends that she's fine, but I know something isn't right. I only wish I could get her to talk to me."

Heero would be disappointed when he found out—_if_ he found out—but it was all Relena could do. She was in the process of dealing with the legal ramifications of her actions, and she spent most of the day with her attorneys, building her defense. The rest of her time was devoted to interviews and public speeches, anything that would help rebuild her reputation. It wasn't right to leave Faith home alone, or home with Lucy and Gio, for twelve or more hours a day, and Relena didn't think it was fair to bring Faith along to the office and thrust her into the spotlight as well.

"Relena," Lucy murmured gently. "Are you sure this is what _you_ want? You've wanted to have Faith home for such a long time."

"I know," Relena whispered. "I know. But Faith isn't adjusting to life here, and I'm not in a place where I can offer her the support she needs right now. So much for getting my chance to finally be her mom, huh? I feel like I'm abandoning her again—only it's worse this time because I'm not giving her up in order to keep her safe."

The ache in her chest was more than just heartburn, but it was familiar enough that Relena could work past it. She collected the empty plates and brought them over to the sink. When Faith got back, she would fuss about dishes left unwashed, but Relena thought she deserved a lecture.

"Hey," Lucy said. "You know you're not alone, right? I'm still in your corner. And I'm sure Heero is, too. Wherever he is."

"Thanks," Relena murmured, stepping through the kitchen door and pausing on the other side. Thinking about Heero, about what he might be facing, was more than she could stomach right now. "I think I'm going back upstairs. Sorry I woke you. Goodnight, Lucy."

* * *

><p>It had taken a lot of work to get Wing Zero back online after Faith's first experience with the Zero System drained what was left of its stored power supply. The gundam had been immobile for so long that Faith didn't think she'd be able to fully restore it on her own, but with a little ingenuity and a lot of sweat she'd managed to get Wing Zero hooked into the building's electricity. Faith suspected the suit needed a new generator, but she didn't have a replacement handy and she wasn't sure she could fix the old one, which was located near the gundam's self-destruct mechanism, without blowing herself up.<p>

And she wasn't ready to die just yet.

Faith slumped in the pilot's seat, panting as the aftereffects of a rough simulation wore off. Her clothes were soaked with sweat and her hands shook, but Zero still hadn't shown her anything useful. She had to try again.

"Come on," she grumbled as she punched in the startup sequence. "This is it, Zero—I'm going back to space in _twelve hours_, and I could really use a little insight here. You can't scare me with simulated death scenes, or space battles, or any of that other crap. Give it up already or so help me, I'll recycle you into soup cans when I get back. I can arrange that, you know."

"Soup cans, huh? You _are _a funny kid."

The transition was seamless , so perfect that Faith was unaware of the slip from reality into simulation. It was just like the first time, but Faith was accustomed to Zero's immersive properties now. She wasn't really surprised that it had sucked her in again—but she hadn't expected things to be quite like this.

The floor was smooth under her worn sneakers, but Faith didn't have much of a sense of her surroundings other than that. She didn't need it, though; this wasn't another battle simulation. For once, it looked like Zero was giving her what she wanted. Insight.

"Dad."

Except it wasn't, quite, her dad. He looked a little younger than Faith remembered him being, and he seemed so—calm. His face was empty, his posture slack. There wasn't any life there—no matter how real this felt, the "person" standing before her was just another one of the Zero System's illusions. Faith approached him cautiously—knowing Zero, this was probably a trap.

"What are you?" she asked, stopping a few feet away. He stared at her and his wrongness was even more apparent—he didn't move like people moved, not even to breathe or blink. Faith suppressed a shudder as she politely waited for the system to formulate a response.

"You know, basically, what I am," he replied, his tone as blank and cool as his face. "I'm a computer simulation of Heero Yuy, constructed from old data from storage and new information drawn from your own memories. You can ask me anything, but you should be aware that my databanks may not contain sufficient information to properly format an answer."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "You've never tried anything like this before, have you?" she asked. "Interfacing with your pilot so directly must be kind of weird."

"Hn," he murmured. Faith almost giggled. A non-committal response to a personal question was definitely like her dad.

"I just want to help you," Faith started. "Well. I want to help my dad, anyway. Two weeks ago, he surrendered himself to a terrorist organization that calls itself the Red Fang. It was my fault—he wouldn't have needed to step in like that if I hadn't gotten myself captured first. I can't let these people hurt my dad, and I need to know what I can do to save him."

Faith stopped, shivering as she remembered that cold, awful night. She closed her eyes, trying to push the memory back where it belonged, and when she opened them again, everything had changed. She gasped, and her breath puffed from her lips in a soft cloud. It really _was_ cold.

Zero had recreated the launch site from her memory, from the crates stacked on the runways to the position of the stars in the sky. Only the people were missing. She was alone with her "dad" and he'd started to look a bit more like himself. His mouth turned down slightly, and Faith could see the little lines that had started to form at the corners of his eyes. He stood up a little straighter, blinked, and exhaled his own cloud of vapor.

_Amazing_, Faith thought, trying to look at the transformation from an objective point of view. The Zero System was still drawing information from her and using it to manipulate her senses and emotions. _No wonder people decided Zero was too dangerous for just anyone to use. There are so many ways this kind of technology could be abused. It would be so easy to just crack into people's heads and steal their information—and they'd never even realize a thing!_

"You aren't prepared for this," her dad/Zero said. "You don't have the training or the equipment to rescue a hostage from a dangerous situation, and getting to me is going to be the easy part."

Faith frowned, and her dad stared down at her with piercing blue eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked. "I _built_ the fastest space shuttle in existence. I know how to disable an alarm, pick a lock, and carry a gun. I'm a damn good shot, too. I can do this."

He smiled and looked away briefly before meeting her eyes again. "You won't shoot to kill, not even if your life depends on it. And that still isn't going to be your biggest problem."

"Then what is my biggest problem?" Faith demanded.

His eyes went hard, harder than Faith had ever seen them—and she wondered again if she'd stumbled into some kind of trap.

"_I_ am your biggest problem," he replied. "And in your current state, nothing you do will convince me to help you."

Faith shivered again, this time more from fear than from the cold that was slowly working its way into her bones. She'd never seen her dad so angry, and yet he was somehow more real now than he'd been in real life. She blinked again, trying to keep her emotions in check before Zero realized how much power it was gaining over her, and when she opened her eyes she was back where she'd started.

Slumped against the pilot's seat. Panting. Her clothes were cold and clammy with sweat, and her cheeks were hot with tears.

"Goddammit!"

* * *

><p>Notes: Like it? Hate it? Let me know what you think! Believe it or not, reviews are quite encouraging. I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can manage; check my profile for status updates and additional information.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Crimson Tide was a deep-space luxury cruiser, a ship designed to travel long distances in outer space while providing its passengers and crew with something that resembled comfortable living conditions. Which, in microgravity, basically meant that it had state-of-the-art exercise facilities and meals didn't always come freeze-dried in aluminum foil packets. Additionally, some of the larger areas, like the galley, observation decks, and living quarters, were equipped with gravity generators that helped reduce the physical and emotional stress of microgravity on the ship's passengers.

It was better than early space exploration missions, at least, where the food was consistently awful and microgravity gave travelers persistent head colds and wreaked havoc on their bodies.

That didn't mean a whole lot to a prisoner, though. Heero wasn't allowed use of the gym and food—when it came—was reconstituted and awful. He was generally confined to an area of the ship that didn't have a gravity generator, and he was getting a little tired of having to sleep next to an air vent. Not that he was going to complain—he'd been in worse places longer.

The treatment was actually better than he'd expected, at least so far, especially since the ship's owner, Satoshi Kiba, wanted Heero dead. He was handcuffed and under constant supervision, but no one bothered him much. He even got a visitor from time to time, one whose predicament was nearly as precarious as his own.

Heero wasn't the only prisoner aboard Crimson Tide. He was just the only one in chains. The other, a raven-haired girl of eighteen or so, hadn't yet realized that she was trapped just as surely as he was.

At least he'd most likely be dead soon, and freedom came with death. Arielle wasn't nearly so lucky. If things continued along their present course, she'd be Kiba's slave for the rest of her life, long after the old man was dust.

It didn't seem fair. She wasn't a bad kid, really. Just a little—misguided. But she was brave enough to come and visit him without a chaperone—she had her translator tell the guards she was interrogating the prisoner on her grandfather's behalf—so Heero thought that maybe one day she'd find the guts to break away from Kiba and become her own person. He was counting on it, actually, which was why he dealt with her at all.

It could be awfully tedious some days, though. Heero was getting a little tired of recounting his surrender to the Red Fang, but Arielle seemed stuck on the idea.

"I don't understand," Arielle said for the umpteenth time. "You're a founding member of the Preventers. A former gundam pilot. Why did you just hand yourself over to Jacob and the others?"

"Don't make me say it again," Heero replied, smiling a little to show he wasn't really angry. "I couldn't let Brewer and his friends just walk away with my kid. She's—my _kid_. You don't just give someone to terrorists, not after you've watched over them since they were born. Come on now."

Okay, so maybe that was stretching things a little. Duo had been the one to do most of the watching-over, but Heero thought the point was still valid. And it wasn't like Arielle was likely to take that into account—she was a smart enough girl but, like a lot of teens, she didn't always look much past the surface of things.

"But still," Arielle protested, "Faith's life is worthless compared to your own. Her accomplishments are noteworthy, certainly, but she hasn't _really_ done anything to prove herself."

"She's hardly had the chance to prove herself. She's only fifteen. Anyway, I think I'm a little past my prime at this point—otherwise I wouldn't have gotten caught like this. It makes sense for me to step down and let Faith have her chance," Heero replied. It was hard to keep the bristle out of his tone when Arielle called Faith worthless, and it wasn't just because Faith was his daughter. If she was really worthless, Kiba and the Red Fang wouldn't have gone through so much trouble in their attempts to get their hands on her. "What would your grandfather do if the tables were turned? Sacrifice you to save his own hide because you're young and inexperienced?"

It was Arielle's turn to bristle at that. Heero didn't particularly want to piss her off—at least not much—but he needed to make her think. Kiba was a demented old sociopath who wouldn't hesitate to throw either of his granddaughters under the bus if he thought it would help his cause. Heero wanted to make sure Arielle knew it, and knew that a responsible guardian would put the interests of their child first. He wanted Arielle to resent Kiba's iron grip on her life.

Heero took it as a good sign that the girl had learned to speak English behind her grandfather's back. If nothing else, it showed that she could think for herself, at least a little, and she was willing to go to great lengths when she wanted something badly enough.

"Of course he would use one of us to save face for the good of the company," Arielle said. "That's just good business. There's no room for morality or idealism in the business world."

Unfortunately for Heero, the girl was pretty much brainwashed to Kiba's teachings. It was going to take time—probably more time than he had—to make her start questioning her old way of thinking.

Still. He had to try. He wanted Kiba Hydroponics to go to pieces so the Red Fang would lose its financial backing and never have the means to harm anyone again. Brewer had been as good as his word, convincing Satoshi Kiba to accept Heero in Faith's place, but Heero wasn't sure Kiba or his granddaughters could be trusted.

"Is it really good business?" he asked. "How much longer do you think your grandfather's going to last? He has senile dementia and a bad heart, and nobody recovers from that. If it was really good business, it would be the other way around—_he_ would be the one to sacrifice his own wellbeing for _you, _regardless of who's accomplished what."

Arielle studied her manicure. She seemed to be struggling with her temper. "That really isn't your concern, now, is it?" she asked. "Frankly, I think you should be more worried about what the Red Fang is going to do to you once we get where we're going."

"It doesn't matter," Heero replied. "I've been imprisoned before. I've been tortured before. I can't even count the number of times I've cheated death. Worrying won't make anything better."

"You aren't going to try escaping?"

He would if it came down to it, if he got even the barest hint that the Red Fang would continue to pursue Faith after they'd disposed of him. But Arielle didn't need to know that.

"I gave my word," Heero said. "As long as Faith is safe, I'll keep it. I don't care what your people do to me."

Arielle nodded briskly and undid her lap belt so she could leave. Something chinked against the bottom of the tabletop, probably one of her shoes. It looked like visiting hours were over, but Heero didn't mind. He'd take what he could get—much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, solitary confinement was as bad as torture in some ways.

"I'll have Kenji tell your guards to look after you," she said. "I'd hate if anything happened to you before we reach our destination. These little chats are—most enlightening."

"Hn," Heero murmured. The guards mostly ignored him; he suspected they were under orders not to cause any lasting harm, but he had no way of proving it. He stayed put while Arielle drifted out and waited for the door to close behind her.

Once she was gone, he swiped a hand under the table and found a bit of folded paper hovering in the air, held in place by the tabletop. He unfolded it and found, to his dismay, a heavy cross pendant made of steel with chocolate gold accents. The word "Faith" was stamped into the gold.

_You owe me another story for this. Don't let the guards find it._ Arielle had written. _This place is boring with just Kenji and Grandfather for company. _

Heero smiled, although he wasn't altogether pleased to see Faith's tracking device again. Brewer had confiscated it when he'd first come onboard, and Heero had been just as glad to see it gone. He didn't put it past Faith to come looking for him, putting herself in serious danger, as long as the pendant was in his possession.

He was stuck with it now, though. There wasn't any way to dispose of it without alerting his guards and getting Arielle in trouble, and he needed Arielle if his plan was going to work. He wrapped the pendant back up in the note and tucked it into his waistband where it couldn't drift away and catch anyone's attention.

* * *

><p>"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!"<p>

Faith pulled the covers over her head against the offending light in her eyes and groaned. Some people were entirely too cheerful at six in the morning.

"None of that," her mom said. "You promised you'd make breakfast with me since this is our last chance to cook together before you leave. Come on now. Up!"

"It's too early," Faith protested. "You said you weren't going in to the office today, so what's the rush?"

"The early bird gets the worm, Faith," her mom sing-songed in that creepy-cheerful tone. "If you aren't up in five minutes, I'm coming back with a bucket of ice water. Consider this payback for sneaking out again last night."

The woman was evil. No truly good-hearted person could say something so horrible with such a bright smile on her face. No matter what last month's public opinion polls said.

"I only got back an hour ago," Faith grumbled. Her mom knew she'd been out, so why deny it? It was better to try the sympathy card.

"And whose fault was that?" her mom asked. Her hands were on her hips now and the smile was gone. "You could have been home sleeping last night instead of sneaking around in the catacombs of an abandoned building. Don't give me that look. I know _exactly _where you've been going, Faith."

Faith could only frown. Her brain was too fuzzy from sleep—or lack thereof—to fully process that statement.

"How?" she asked lamely, when the silence started to stretch out between them. She'd always made it a point to leave well after everyone else was in bed, and security was so accustomed to seeing the Porsche come and go at odd hours that they didn't log it anymore. She'd also disabled the car's internal GPS system and removed a couple of external tracking bugs that weren't factory installations. So how had—

"I'm your mother!" her mom replied. The smile reappeared. "I've always wanted to say that."

_Great_, Faith thought sarcastically. _Now, in addition to being a super-scary morning person, Mom's also developed psychic powers. That's just what I need. _

"Fantastic," she muttered, sitting up and pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "I'm glad you finally got your moment. I guess."

"Seriously, Fay, you're down to four minutes now. I already have the ice water ready," her mom said.

Of course she did. She was nothing if not thorough. Faith sighed and thumped her head back against the wall. Her hair, she could tell, was the kind of epic disaster that only a shower and some serious effort with the hairdryer would fix. And Faith didn't think her mom would wait that long.

"Four minutes," she agreed, pulling her hair into a frizzy, tangled ponytail that would at least keep it out of the way until she had time to deal with it. "French toast okay?"

* * *

><p>"—well. Mr. Maxwell. Zachary? <em>Dak<em>! For the love of _God_, will you stop that infernal tapping! That is a desk, young man, _not _a drum kit."

Dak froze under the teacher's glare. He hadn't even realized he was doing it again. It just happened. His hands had minds of their own sometimes, and they tended to drum when he stopped paying attention to the rest of the world; now they clenched into fists and then slowly dropped down to his knees, hiding under his desk.

Dak wished he could join them.

Getting in trouble at school was, like, the opposite of getting in trouble at home. His parents never called him Zachary. His teachers never called him Dak. But they all used that impatient tone of voice, and they all—usually correctly—assumed his mind had been elsewhere.

"Sorry, Mrs. Maynard," he mumbled, feeling his face heat up when he realized the _entire _class was watching. "It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," she replied tartly. "Or you'll be up front, going over last night's homework for the class, where I can keep a better eye on you."

Dak nodded miserably and forced himself to sit still. He stared at the clock above Mrs. Maynard's head for the rest of class so it would at least look like he was paying attention.

He was the first one out of his seat when the bell rang and he darted out into the hall, hoping he could somehow speed up time if he sped up himself.

_Too bad it doesn't really work that way_, Dak thought ruefully as he slipped between a couple of upperclassmen on his way to physics.

"Dak?"

He stopped in his tracks, glancing back at the senior who'd recognized him. It was one of Fay's old friends, the guy who'd emptied out the school after performing an unauthorized experiment last semester.

"Hey," Dak said, stopping to talk out of deference to his sister. "It's Len, right? You were Faith's lab partner in chemistry."

"Yeah, that's me," Len replied. He turned back to his friend. "Cover for me, will you, Conrad? I've gotta talk to this guy."

"Whatever," Conrad muttered. "I'll tell Mr. B you forgot something in your room."

Len nodded and his friend stalked off. Dak waited impatiently, tapping his fingers against the cover of his binder as Len watched his friend walk out of earshot.

"How's Fay?" Len asked, gesturing for Dak to lead the way. "Have you heard anything lately?"

Dak shrugged. He wasn't supposed to talk about Faith—no one was. His dad wasn't sure who could be trusted anymore, and Dak was inclined to follow his dad's instincts on this one.

"She's okay, I guess," he replied awkwardly.

Len frowned. "I figured you'd be more excited than that since she's coming home today," he said. "What's up? You guys have a fight or something?"

Dak stepped on his own loose shoelace and dropped his binder as he stumbled. He grabbed for Len's jacket to keep himself from falling flat on his face. Len fell for it and tried to steady him. It looked like an accident, but Dak really wanted an excuse to get his hands on the idiot without getting himself in trouble with the hall monitors.

"Shut up!" Dak hissed, talking quietly so no one but Len could hear. "Do you want the whole _colony_ to know she's coming back here? That's supposed to be a secret! How the hell did _you _find out about it, anyway?"

Len pushed Dak away, as calmly as if Dak really had stumbled on accident. If anyone noticed, they didn't make anything of it. Dak still couldn't relax, though. He grabbed his binder off the floor and brushed imaginary dust off of its plastic cover.

"It was partly my fault that Faith got kidnapped from the Preventer base in Brussels," Len said softly, unruffled by Dak's moodiness. "My dad's one of the agents assigned to her case. He told me about her trip, and he said I should watch out for her if I really wanted to make things up to everybody. Dad said Faith has been more trouble than usual lately, and it's got everyone concerned. I just wanted to let you know that you can count on me if you need anything."

Dak scowled. Len's answers were too easy, and he was way too calm for a guy claiming to be responsible for someone else's abduction. It was busting up Dak's anxious rhythm and he didn't like it.

"Look," he said. "This is all supposed to be confidential, classified information. No one can know she's here. I shouldn't even be discussing this with you right now—the only reason I _am_ is because Fay told me you looked out for her while she was on Earth. I can't make any promises, Len."

"Right, right," Len said, waving one hand dismissively. "I get it. Like I said, buddy, I just thought I'd offer to help. That's all—you don't have to get all freaked out."

_You'd freak out, too, if it was your family in this situation,_ Dak thought. _Life is finally about to go back to normal for us, and I'm not letting anything screw that up. _

"I appreciate the offer," Dak lied, trying to get rid of the guy. "I have to get to class now, Len. Buddy. So, uhm, later."

"Sure," Len agreed, apparently accepting Dak's lame-ass excuse. "See you around, Dak."

Dak rolled his eyes as he walked away, trying to find his rhythm again. It was only second period; he couldn't spend the rest of the day lost in a funk. Not when Faith was finally coming home.

* * *

><p>"You're <em>sure <em>you packed everything you're going to need, Fay?" Relena asked as they got settled in the lounge to wait for Faith's flight. It was too late to be asking, really, since they couldn't exactly go back and retrieve anything, but Relena thought it seemed like the sort of thing a mother would say. She was still trying to get used to being a parent.

Faith rolled her eyes. "I'm sure, Mom," she replied. "Are _you_ sure you're okay to come out here? I mean, you did spend all morning with your head in the toilet."

French toast had been a bad idea. It seemed that soymilk disagreed with Relena. Which was kind of ironic, since real dairy products disagreed with Faith.

"I'm fine, Faith," Relena said. "I don't know what happened this morning, honestly, but I feel better now."

Relena sat down and folded her hands in her lap, wondering if it would be inappropriate to ask someone for a cup of tea. There was coffee brewing in a pot in the corner, but the smell turned Relena's stomach and she didn't want to risk being sick again, especially not in public. She didn't know who to ask, though, since Lucy was on an errand, so she decided not to bother.

Faith paced nervously, prowling around the room and peering into the corners, no doubt checking for bugs. Relena was accustomed to flying out from military bases instead of commercial terminals. Faith wasn't, though, and she didn't seem comfortable on the base. She was tense and hyperalert, jumping when strangers spoke or anyone made a noise in the hall.

_I can't blame her, though, after what she went through last time she came onto a base,_ Relena thought. _Being abducted by the very people who were supposed to be looking after her…It's a wonder she took it as well as she did._

"Sorry," Relena murmured. "I was afraid you'd be uncomfortable here, but flying you out from a military base rather than a space harbor was one of Commander Une's stipulations. You know how difficult it was to even arrange this trip at all, Fay."

"Yeah," Faith agreed. Her eyes were hard, though, and it was obvious what Faith thought about those stipulations. Relena knew Faith didn't care for the Preventers, but she thought her daughter was giving them the short end of the stick.

"The Preventers are doing the best they can, Faith," Relena admonished gently. "Heero knew what he was getting into—he wrote that directive himself. There are people waiting for a transmission from him right now, Fay, and as soon as they hear _anything—_"

"They'll send someone to help him," Faith interrupted. "I've heard it. But there isn't going to be a transmission, Mom. You know what he told me when he left—it's in the official report, and I know you have a copy. Why would he say something like that if he was planning on coming back?"

Relena sighed. She couldn't blame Faith for having so little faith in her father—he'd been absent most of her life. She hadn't had time to learn to trust him, or to understand that he always prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.

"You just have to believe in him, dear," Relena said, digging in her purse for a tissue. She was getting better about crying, really, but sometimes it was just so hard—

"Sorry, Mom," Faith whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just—nobody listens to me. Everybody's all optimistic, saying Dad's going to be back any day now, and it's just—I just—"

She broke off, and Relena could tell she was biting the inside of her cheek again, trying not to cry. Relena suppressed a smile—the girl was just too much like her father, always prepared for the worst.

"I get it," Relena replied. "You don't want to know how often he's said things like that to me, and it terrifies me every time. But he always comes back home in the end. He just likes to be pragmatic, that's all. It's up to us to be the hopeful ones."

Faith only nodded. Relena didn't expect a response, though, not until she'd calmed down a bit more. Faith rarely spoke when she was this upset, and it didn't take much to put her in a mood lately. But Relena thought she understood—Faith wanted so badly to be treated like an adult, and her emotional outbursts made her feel childish.

"The last time I saw your father, he was running for the stairs in Brussels so he could go find you," Relena said, closing her eyes as she told the story for the first time. She worked to keep her voice even so Faith could understand her. "The very last time I spoke to him, I told him I loved him. Do you know what he said to me?"

"What?" Faith whispered. She was perched on the edge of a chair, her eyes intently focused on Relena's. She looked _so _much like her father with that expression on her face…Relena sniffled. She couldn't help it.

"He said, 'I know,'" Relena replied, smiling.

Faith frowned. "Not that he loved you back?" she asked. "That was kind of crappy. But it does sound like Dad."

Relena chuckled and wiped another tear away. She took another calming breath. And another. Talking about this was harder than she'd expected.

"It _does_ sound crappy to someone on the outside, doesn't it?" Relena asked, smiling through her tears. "But you don't know the whole story yet. Heero saves his I-love-yous until he gets home. He says it's so I'll know he _has _to come back to me, no matter what."

"Jeez," Faith muttered, apparently unable to come up with something snappy enough. "You two are _so _weird."

Lucy laughed from the doorway, startling both of them. "You should hear what Relena tells him when he does finally get home," she told Faith. "She puts her hands on her hips—just like this, Fay—and she says 'You better!' And the whole time, she's trying to give him this dirty look, but she's so glad to see him again that she just can't. It's the funniest thing. I swear, they've been married for sixteen years and they're still just as bad as they were when they were teenagers."

Faith's lips twitched—_almost a smile, _Relena thought—but she sobered quickly. It was better than Relena had seen in days, though. She was going to call it a victory.

"_Anyway_," Relena said, deciding not to comment on Lucy's assessment of her marriage, "That's how _I _know your father is going to do everything in his power to get home, Fay. He's never let me down before."

"There's a first time for everything," Faith replied sadly. "I don't believe in happy endings, Mom, not after everything that's happened to me lately. And I can't stand to get my hopes up anymore."

"For better or for worse, these things work themselves out," Relena said, trying to be comforting. "Now let's get you settled on that shuttle. There's a surprise waiting for you, and I really think you'll like it."

Faith almost-smiled again. "Oh, Mom, what is it now?" she asked. "You already gave me enough gift cards to replace my entire wardrobe. I'm going to be spoiled if you keep this up."

"I think you can handle it," Relena replied, grinning down at her daughter. "But this is it, I promise. Well. Unless you outgrow all your clothes again—call me if that happens and I'll send you another gift card."

Faith shook her head. "Like _that_'s going to happen," she muttered. "But seriously, what is it this time?"

"Nope," Relena said, pleased that she'd managed to pull Faith out of her dark mood. "It won't be a surprise if I tell you, will it?"

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong> Wow! I wasn't expecting such a huge response for Chapter 1! Thank you all so much! I'm sorry it took me so long to get this one finished-as you can hopefully see, chapters are a little longer than they were in Leap of Faith and it takes me more time to write and edit. I'm also job hunting right now and that, unfortunately, has to be a priority. I'm hoping Chapter 3 won't take quite as long to write, but I guess we'll see. Still. Two chapters in a month isn't bad, is it?

Oh, and if you're interested in something fun, check out the link at the bottom of my profile page. Somebody made a fanart-it's Selda! How cool is that? Hehe, I might make a Tumblr or something if I get any more pics, so I can put them all together somewhere. Neat! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Trowa Barton was a quiet person by nature. Always had been. It was a good way to learn things, and a better way than words to convince a fool that Trowa could be trusted. Silence was a mask for Trowa, a comfortable disguise that he'd worn for many years.

So why was it so uncomfortable today?

Trowa risked another glance at his passenger, who still sullenly refused to acknowledge him, and had his answer. It wasn't his own silence that was the problem. It was _hers_.

"Is everything all right, Faith?" he asked. But of course it wasn't—not with all she'd been through in the last couple of weeks—so he amended by adding, "How's Torstin settling in?"

She softened a little when he mentioned the dog's name, and peered into his crate to check on her new companion. It had been kind of Relena to surprise Faith with her guard dog. Trowa knew firsthand how therapeutic an animal could be, and if anyone needed a calm, non-judgmental friend right now, it was Faith. Trowa raised an eyebrow at her when she turned back in her seat without answering his question and she huffed softly, annoyed.

"He's fine," she said.

That was it. Monosyllables today, when she used to chatter so much that he sometimes had to put some serious effort into not tuning her out. She'd barely said hello when they boarded the shuttle, and Trowa couldn't fathom what he'd done to upset her.

It bothered him, and he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

"How have you been?" he asked lamely, trying to goad her into talking to him. "I haven't seen you since—"

Since the night Heero left, when she'd cried herself to sleep in the back seat of his car. Maybe this wasn't the best way to start a conversation after all. Reminding her of that night was probably a bad idea. Trowa spared a look her way, spotted her pinched lips and narrowed eyes, and realized he was right.

This was another reason silence suited him so well—he never knew what to say to some people, especially women. It was a wonder Cathy put up with him as well as she did. He'd realized long ago that marriage was probably beyond him, but it hadn't bothered him much until he'd started spending so much time around Duo and Hilde. It would be nice to have what they had.

But it was too late. He was too old to start thinking about settling down at this point, and the one person who might have been a compatible partner—Well. It was too late. That was all there was to it, and there wasn't any point in dwelling on it now. Especially when he was supposed to be working.

"Sorry," he murmured, forcing himself to take the reins of conversation again and hoping he still had a chance to smooth over his previous transgression. "That didn't come out right."

"I think I know what you meant," Faith replied, her voice as cold and distant as Heero's could be. "I'm not in a good place right now, Trowa. I'd rather not discuss it."

"Of course," Trowa said. "How's Relena holding up?"

Faith shot him an incredulous look. "Mom?" she asked, sounding a little more like herself. "Mom's nuts. She acts like everything's okay—she spends a lot of time trying to fix things at work, and she's got herself convinced that Dad's absolutely, positively coming back—but I think deep down she knows something's wrong."

"Oh?" Trowa prompted, trying to keep her talking. This hard, stony silence just wasn't Faith. It worried him.

"Yeah," Faith continued." Mom's been, like, binging on junk food—she ate a whole pizza by herself the other night—and then she gets sick after she eats. Certain things really upset her—like this one commercial they keep playing on the radio—and she'll just randomly start crying. I think it's anxiety. Or bulimia. It's—kind of scary, Trowa."

It sounded scary to Trowa, too. No wonder Faith was upset, with one parent missing and the other struggling to cope.

"Now I understand why you've been pushing everyone so hard to let you go back to Duo," Trowa said softly. "Is Miss Noin still watching out for Relena? I know she and her little boy stayed with you guys after Heero—left."

"Aunt Lucy and Gio are going back to their apartment tonight," Faith replied. "Mom said she wanted some time alone. To think. I feel like Dad would have wanted me to stay and take care of her, but I can't fix Mom. She needs go to a doctor and get checked out, but she keeps saying she doesn't have time. Maybe she'll make time now that she doesn't have to feel like she has to rush home to me every day."

Trowa wondered if it was normal for a teenager to feel like she needed to be responsible for her mother. _It must be_, he decided. _Duo's kids picked up the slack when Hilde started her cancer treatments. I always thought that it was a parent's responsibility to care for their children, but I guess it can go both ways if the kids are mature enough._

The silence resumed, but it felt a little less strained this time around. Faith relaxed visibly; she stopped deliberately avoiding eye contact and some of the tension left her shoulders. Torstin noticed the change, too; he stopped his nervous panting and was quiet in his crate.

"Trowa," Faith murmured, her low voice hardly audible over the fans, "If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth? Not just pat me on the head and say something comforting because you think I'm too young to understand?"

"You know I will, Fay," he replied. "I can't give you classified information, but I won't hold anything else back."

She hesitated, and Trowa imagined that she was trying to figure out if she really wanted to know the answer to her question. He had a general idea of what she wanted to ask—it would be something about Heero, or about Preventer's outright refusal to track him down—but he waited patiently for her to decide.

"How well do you know my dad?"

"About as well as anyone, I guess," Trowa said slowly. "We traveled together for a while during the war, looked out for each other. We sort of lost touch after I went back to the circus and only started doing Preventer part-time, though."

Faith nodded, her expression thoughtful as she measured his words, trying—he thought—to decide what to do with that bit of information.

"You were there the night he—left," she said, stammering over the last bit. "Do you think he's coming back? If _you_ say it, I'll believe it. I'll go back to Mom and wait like everyone says I should."

It would save everyone a lot of time and grief if Trowa told her that Heero was coming back. Faith honestly had no idea how much Preventer had put into assuring the colony's safety so she could resume her old life there, and Trowa wasn't sure the public would be pleased if that information ever saw the light of day.

But he'd promised her the truth.

"Heero isn't coming back," he said. "If he thinks that he can save your life by sacrificing his own, he'll do it."

It didn't seem appropriate to elaborate, to tell her about the time he and Cathy took Heero in after he self-destructed. Or the pilgrimage they'd taken afterward, tracking down Heero's victims' families so he could offer his life to them. No, Faith didn't need to hear about any of that.

But, more than the truth, Trowa wasn't sure what she did need to hear.

"I don't understand," she mumbled, probably to herself. "Why would he just throw his life away like that?"

At least Trowa could answer that one.

"Some things are bigger than one person's life," Trowa replied. "Everyone has a different idea of what that thing is, whether it's a dream or an ideal or even a simple object, but over the course of a person's life, we all encounter _something_ that we value above all else."

Faith sniffled softly, but Trowa couldn't tell if she was crying or if it was just her sinuses. Zero-G gave everyone a head cold.

"For Heero, that was you," he finished. At one point, it might have been the fate of outer space, or the Earth, or even Relena Darlian, but now it was Faith. "That's all."

"That's _all?_" Faith asked. "Trowa, that's the craziest thing I've ever heard. It's like you're saying everybody's suicidal, and no way am I going to believe that. You've been spending too much time around all these crazy Preventers."

Trowa shook his head. "I think maybe you're just too young to understand," he said. "But if you look hard enough, there are examples throughout history. Just look at the Red Fang, at how many of their operatives died to get to you. _I_ get it. If it had been me there instead of Heero that night—I would have done the same thing."

Faith jerked away sharply. "_What!"_ she demanded. "Trowa, that's horrible! You can't do that. Promise me you'll never do anything like that!"

"You wanted the truth, Faith," Trowa replied evenly. "I can't lie to you. And I won't make promises I can't keep."

She was definitely crying after that; Trowa switched on the vent that would draw the moisture out of the air before it could damage any of the shuttle's more delicate sensors. He reached for Faith's hand, hoping to erase some of the damage he'd done, and she slapped him away.

"Leave me alone," she cried. "I can't stand it, so just—just stay away from me!"

"Faith—"

"No!"

And after that, the silence was so thick that Trowa didn't try to break it again. Duo would know how he could get back into Faith's good graces and, since Trowa had to deliver a package from Relena anyway, he had a reason to visit. But until then, he decided to let Faith have her space. He sighed softly to himself. He'd never understand women.

* * *

><p>Faith spotted Chris waiting alone on the other side of the security checkpoint and cursed her bad luck. Apparently it wasn't enough that Trowa had gone all weird on her. No, now she had to deal with Chris, too. Great.<p>

Homesick or no, Chris was the very last person she wanted to see right now. If it hadn't been for him and his big mouth, thinking with his balls instead of his brains, Faith's life would still be normal. Or at least as close to normal as it had ever been.

"I don't even want to look at you right now, Chris," Faith said as she walked through the checkpoint and out into the spaceport's public area. "Do you have _any_ idea what kind of hell you've put me through? All because you wanted to impress some _girl_?"

At least he had the decency to look ashamed.

"I don't have anything to say to you," she muttered when he didn't answer. "Where's Duo? I want to get out of here. I need to talk to Dak."

Chris hesitated. Faith crossed her arms over her chest and glowered, waiting for him to formulate an answer. He wasn't as stupid as he looked—not by half. Sometimes he just had trouble finding words.

"Dad didn't come," Chris said slowly, annunciating more carefully than usual. "He let me out of work-study for the afternoon and said I should meet you."

"Dammit," Faith complained. "I don't have time for this, Chris."

At her side, Torstin growled low in his throat. Chris didn't even look at the dog; he was focused on Faith. She twitched Torstin's leash, a silent command for him to settle down, and stared back at her brother. He looked—different somehow. He was pasty pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, as if he'd lost a lot of sleep lately.

"Just listen to me for a minute," he insisted. "Please?"

Faith frowned. Chris hadn't been this cautious around anyone in a long time; he spent too much time trying to be tough to put any effort into polishing his manners. What had changed?

_The last time Chris and I were together, I got into a strange car and let a strange man take me away, and he didn't do anything to prevent it,_ she remembered. _And a few days later, we all found out it was because of something he said to a girl._ She sighed. That had been traumatic, but Faith wasn't the only one who'd been through hell. It was time to give Chris a break, even if it meant putting her plans off for a little while longer.

"Let it go, Chris," she said. "I wouldn't have time to sleep if I put my energy into being mad at all of the people who have screwed with me lately. Just—forget it. Shit happens. Water under the bridge. Et cetera."

She stiffened with surprise when he pulled her into a hug; as a general rule, Chris avoided physical affection almost as notoriously as she did. She wasn't sure she liked seeing this softer side of her brother. Torstin definitely didn't like it but, to Faith's relief, he didn't try to bite.

"How is it that you're always the bigger person, Fay?" Chris asked. Faith snorted; she knew what he meant, but it didn't stop the mental image from forming. He had a good forty pounds on her and _she _was the bigger person? Ha.

"I'm just older and wiser, that's all," she replied loftily, flipping her hair and striking a goofy pose so he'd crack that crooked smile. "I've got a whole six hours on you, bro."

"I'll tell Dad to have them put your name first on the birthday cake this year," Chris said seriously. "Not that you ever eat any of it."

He clapped Faith on the shoulder then, and Torstin let out such a guttural snarl that Faith couldn't help jumping away. Chris glanced down, noticed Torstin—and his bared fangs—for the first time, and jerked back as well. Torstin settled back down, satisfied that he'd done his job; he wouldn't pursue a target unless Faith gave the command. Faith pursed her lips. _Chris should have noticed him growling,_ she thought. _Even in this noisy place._

"You can't hear Torstin at all, can you?" she asked, deliberately lowering her voice. Chris scowled and she had her answer. She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him into an empty café, where the ambient noise was much less than the rest of the spaceport."What the hell is going on, Chris? My dog's growling like he's about to take your leg off and you didn't even notice."

"Hey!" The man behind the counter snapped when he realized they were in his café. "Get that animal out of here!"

Faith shot the guy a dirty look and presented Torstin's papers. "The dog goes where I go," she told him. "If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with my attorney."

He didn't need to know that it was really her mom's attorney; the message was clearer when she spelled it out this way. The man glanced over the papers and slowly handed them back to Faith.

"You kids better not make a mess," he grumbled. Faith rolled her eyes. She led Chris over to the booth in the back, where they'd at least have a little privacy, and sat on the side facing the rest of the café so she could see if anyone followed them inside. The coast was clear so far. Torstin stretched himself out beside her; he looked calm, but his ears were alert and Faith knew he'd warn her if he thought she was in danger.

But since Chris's hearing aids were on the fritz, and since it would keep them safe from eavesdroppers, Faith decided to switch to sign language, too.

/Spill it, Chris/ Faith signed once they were settled. /What's going on?/

* * *

><p>Duo took it as a bad sign when Trowa Barton showed up on his doorstep alone and looking lost. Well, not the lost part—Trowa always seemed a little lost to Duo.<p>

But alone. That was bad. Trowa didn't look stressed about it, though, so Duo wasn't going to worry just yet.

"Where's Faith? I sent Chris to meet you guys," he said casually as he led the way into the house. It was empty this time of day, with the kids in school and Hilde back in the hospital, and it was nice to have a chance to talk business without worrying over what little ears might pick up. "Is everything okay?"

"I left Faith with Chris, in the coffee shop at the spaceport," Trowa said. "Preventer has the whole colony under surveillance; if anyone does anything suspicious, we'll be able to step in before a situation escalates. They should be safe."

_That wasn't really an answer_, Duo thought, wondering what was up with his old comrade. Trowa always had been a tricky one to pin down—he was almost as bad as Heero when it came to answering questions—but this was evasive even for him.

Duo led Trowa into the kitchen. It smelled like fresh coffee mixed with underlying traces of the burnt remains of last night's dinner. At least with Faith back, there'd be someone in the house who knew how to cook, Duo mused. He got down a pair of mugs and passed one to Trowa.

"Help yourself," he said, filling his own mug and plopping down at the kitchen table. "Seriously, Trowa, what's going on? Nobody tells me the same story twice. All I know is Heero's off on some mission and Faith got homesick or something."

Trowa was quiet for a minute as he slowly pulled his chair out and sank into it. He took a sip of scalding coffee and set his mug on the table.

"Heero's gone," he said softly. "Two weeks ago, a Red Fang spy operating within Preventer kidnapped Faith. We intercepted them before they could get off-planet, but they were prepared for us. Heero worked out a deal and went with them in exchange for Faith. Preventer's official stance is that he's away on a mission, but I don't think he's coming back. For all I know, he's already dead."

Maybe it was denial talking, but Duo couldn't believe Heero was dead. Not yet. The man had more lives than an alley cat.

"No," Duo murmured. "They would have made some announcement. Something. Heero has a lot of enemies; nobody's going to kill him off and then keep quiet about it."

"Hmm." Trowa's response was noncommittal, neither agreement nor dissent. He had some more coffee and stared into his mug as if he thought he could dissect its secrets.

"How's Faith?" Duo asked, uncomfortable with the silence.

"I don't know," Trowa replied, refusing to meet Duo's eyes. Duo frowned; aversion was unusual for Trowa—he usually preferred eye contact when he talked to someone. "She isn't herself, Duo. She's—very angry. We got into an argument on the way over, and I'm still not sure what I did wrong. Relena's been having problems with her, too."

Trowa pulled a holodisc out of his shirt pocket and slid it across the table to Duo.

"Miss Noin gave that to me before Faith and I left this morning. It's a private message to both of us from Relena. I don't know what might be on it; Noin didn't know, either."

Duo turned the disc over in his hands. He'd never seen one of the miniature hologram projectors up close before; they were way too expensive for Duo's taste when you could accomplish the same basic thing over vidphone or email.

"She's wrecked the replay function on this one, so we can only watch it once," Duo observed. "Crazy thing to do with something this expensive, when the message could have been recorded over and the device reused."

"I guess that means it's sensitive material," Trowa offered. Duo nodded. He set it in the center of the table and pressed Play.

The hologram was a little grainy, but it was obviously Relena Darlian, sitting at her desk in her office. She looked thin and tired, and her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. But her voice was as clear and strong as ever.

"Duo Maxwell and Trowa Baron," she started. "I'm entrusting this information to you because I don't know where else to turn. Heero is—gone. I hope that he'll return soon, but during his absence, I find myself forced to take matters into my own hands.

"Duo, I'm sorry to burden you with my daughter a second time, but I'm afraid I need your help now more than ever. As I'm sure you're aware, all mobile suits were ordered destroyed at the end of the war. Even your gundams were taken to a secure location and detonated."

Relena paused for a second and glanced away from the camera. Duo watched as she wiped away a tear and took a steadying breath. He realized he was holding his own breath and let it out in a soft whoosh. This was gonna be bad. He could already tell.

"Wing Zero, unfortunately, is still in existence. It was hidden after Mariemaia's uprising, and fully restored. Since Heero's disappearance, Faith has been sneaking out almost every night and going to the storage hangar."

_Oh yeah,_ Duo thought. _This is definitely bad._ Trowa looked deeply concerned now, but neither of them spoke. Relena wasn't done yet, and they only had one shot at this message.

"I'm not comfortable leaving Faith to experiment with this dangerous technology," Relena continued. "Heero isn't here to watch over her—as I'm sure he intended, since she couldn't have found the gundam on her own—and when I tried to contact my brother for advice, I learned that he has gone missing from his post on Mars. It is my hope that the two of you, Duo and Trowa, will be able to help Faith find her way. I'm afraid my knowledge of the gundams, and particularly the Zero System, is just too limited. Forgive me, Duo. I know your family is going through enough difficulty right now, but I don't know where else to turn."

"Aww, crap," Duo muttered, scowling at Relena's fading hologram. "This is not good. I only used the Zero System once. That shit freaks me out."

"It wasn't fun," Trowa agreed. "I don't think I have enough experience with it to be of any help, either. And Zechs is missing? This isn't good."

Privately, Duo didn't give a crap about where Zechs might have ended up. Anybody who'd try to crash a city-sized battleship into the Earth to put an end to war was insane , and Faith didn't need to be exposed to that kind of crazy . But there had to be _somebody_ around who could help.

"Quatre," Duo realized. "He's the one who built the damn gundam. He used Zero, too, even mastered it. What about him?"

Trowa inhaled a mouthful of coffee at the mention of the other pilot's name and Duo remembered that the two of them had had some kind of falling out years ago.

"I don't know," Trowa admitted, coughing. "I saw him when I was on Earth, but we don't normally talk. I know he stays pretty busy with work, though; you might not be able to reach him."

"Oh, I can reach him," Duo said, smiling. He could reach Quatre even if it took breaking into his office again. "But let's wait until we're sure we have to. It could be Relena's blowing this way out of proportion; she doesn't know Faith all that well, after all."

"It seems that I don't know Faith all that well, either," Trowa said softly. "Talk to her for me, Duo? She isn't speaking to me."

_Okay_, Duo thought. _Now it might be time to worry._ Usually it went the other way around—when Duo and Faith were having issues, he got Trowa to figure out what the problem was. For whatever reason, Faith adored the guy. He'd never heard of the two of them arguing over anything before and it must have been pretty bad for Trowa to be as broken up over it as he seemed.

"I'll do that," Duo said. He downed the last of his coffee in a gulp and set the mug in the sink. Faith would blow a gasket when she saw it there, but she said funny things when she got mad. And he'd sort of missed her borderline-obsessive cleanliness.

"Thanks, Duo," Trowa murmured. He left his half-finished drink next to Duo's and started for the door. "I'm stationed on this colony until the situation changes or they can find someone suitable to replace me. Call me if you need anything."

"Will do, buddy," Duo replied cheerfully as he walked Trowa out. It was almost time to get Lexi from daycare anyway; he might as well show up a little early today.

* * *

><p>Notes: So...This was supposed to go up about a week ago, but I accidentally used up all of my internet service for the month and I had to wait until it rolled over again. Sorry!<p>

This was a rough chapter for me. Conflict is a necessary instrument in storytelling, or so I am given to understand, but it isn't my favorite thing to write. Anyway, wander on over to Between the Lines if you're looking for something a little softer. And review! Haha, please let me know what you thought about this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

"It's time to put your papers away, Grandfather," Arielle said, speaking Japanese for her grandfather's benefit. "I brought dinner."

"You cooked it, dear?" he asked, also in Japanese, as Ari wasn't supposed to know English. "All by yourself?"

"Of course, Grandfather," she replied as she began unloading the tray, setting plates and serving utensils on the bare desktop. "I made it just for you."

Although the cruiser had a cook and a full galley, Arielle was responsible for preparing meals for herself and her grandfather. Kenji was kind enough to carry the tray from the kitchen, but Ari had to manage the heavy thing on her own once they got to her grandfather's suite. Servants weren't allowed into his quarters anymore.

Ari didn't mind cooking—she found it cathartic, in fact—but it bothered her that her grandfather had recently become so insistent on it. Up until a few weeks ago, he'd called it servants' work and had ridiculed all of her culinary endeavors.

"Excellent work, Akiko," he said. "You're going to be a fine wife one day if you keep it up."

"I'm Ari-chan, Grandfather," she replied. "Akiko was Mother's name. But I'm glad you're enjoying the food."

Praise was strange coming from the man who'd raised her on a steady stream of criticism and ruthless restrictions. Ari tried to let it go. Sudden change in behavior was a common symptom of dementia, after all.

"This soup tastes wrong," he said suddenly, pushing the bowl toward her. "I think it's been poisoned."

Paranoia was another symptom. It was why Ari had taken over his meal preparation—he usually trusted her over any of his men, although it looked like tonight was going to be an exception.

"I left out the salt," Ari explained. "The doctor said your blood pressure is too high and your heart can't take it. It's good for you, Grandfather. Eat it."

"Only if you have some too," he insisted. Ari sighed and had a few spoonfuls to placate him. It _was _strange without any salt; the flavor was bland, almost bitter. No wonder he was complaining.

"There, see?" Ari said. "It's fine."

"Hmm," he grumbled as he picked up his spoon and began eating again. "Tell me about the mission, Ari. Are things going according to plan?"

"Yes," Ari murmured. "We still have another week before we reach our destination, and then the Red Fang will carry out the last stage of your plan. The execution will be publicly broadcast, just as you instructed."

Arielle didn't care for this at all. Killing a Preventer—and not just any Preventer, but a former gundam pilot and the spouse of one of the world's most beloved public figures—was corporate suicide. There was no way Kiba Hydroponics could handle the kind of press that would follow once the execution—the murder, really—was carried out. They would be caught this time, Ari had no doubts about that. And her grandfather, who had one foot in the grave already, wouldn't be the one who ultimately faced the penalties.

Ari didn't have any power to stop it, though. She didn't have the courage or the financial means to do otherwise. She'd been raised to respect her grandfather's every wish, and he controlled all of her property and assets as tightly as he'd controlled her education. He had taught her business as he'd learned it—the ruthless survived while those who stooped to their morals were doomed to failure and obscurity. She didn't bow to idealism or morality. It had worked for her, too, until just recently.

Faith Yuy—or Faith Maxwell, as she preferred to be called—had neatly sidestepped everything Ari's grandfather had taught her in one single, simple gesture. Ari still couldn't figure it out. Faith had thrown everything away—literally thrown it into the pool—rather than bow to the pressure Ari and Selda had put upon her.

Maybe it just ran in her family, Ari mused. Faith's father had done essentially the same thing when he'd given himself up to the Red Fang. Ari didn't understand that, either, but then again, she'd never known her own father. Maybe that was just how fathers were.

_It doesn't matter_, Ari thought. _For now, I have to concentrate on what's in front of me. The rest can wait until I have a better handle on the situation. _

"Are you finished, Grandfather?" she asked. His bowl was empty and he hadn't reached for the serving dish himself.

"Yes," he said. "But you haven't told me about the girl. Is she in our custody yet? We _have _to have the girl if our mission is to succeed, Ari."

Ari looked away without answering. There was only one girl her grandfather could be talking about—and their prisoner would _not _be happy if he learned that the leader of the Red Fang still wanted his daughter.

* * *

><p>"Don't look at me like that," Faith said to Torstin when he glanced up at her for the fourth time. "You're the one who just <em>had <em>to come outside. This is all the outside you get, boy."

They were lucky enough to have a real yard with real grass. Most people in the colonies crammed into apartments. They were luckier still to have such a nice house; once upon a time, it had been a small apartment building. When the original owner decided to sell the whole place and move to Earth, Duo and Hilde took out a huge loan and bought it.

Faith hadn't ever considered it before going to Earth, hadn't realized exactly how expensive it was to live on a colony where space and resources were so strictly limited. But now she knew and she wondered how Duo and Hilde could afford to have everything they did on the scrap yard's earnings.

_It's none of my business_, she decided, watching Torstin sniff the gatepost with disdain before finally lifting his leg.

But it certainly explained why they tended to cut corners when it came to certain things. Like clothes. And groceries.

"Are you finished yet?" she asked Torstin. "Cause if you're just going to stand there and stare at me, we're going back inside now."

Faith jumped when she heard an engine suddenly roar around the corner. She glanced up, wondering who was causing such a commotion in their sleepy neighborhood, and ran for the porch when she saw the white van.

It wasn't the same model as the van that had blown up outside Jake's Café a few weeks ago, or the one that a Red Fang spy had imprisoned her in, but it was enough to make the memories fresh and send Faith scrambling for her house keys.

She trembled by the front door and nearly kicked herself when she realized it was a moving van dropping things off for the new family that was still getting settled in the vacant rental house across the street.

"Great," Faith muttered to Torstin, fumbling to open the door with fingers that still shook. "Now I'm afraid of _moving_ vans? What's next? Butterflies? Ugh. I hate being such a pussy, I really do."

She shut the door firmly behind her and pushed it out of her thoughts as she unclipped Torstin's leash and kicked her shoes off in the atrium. Torstin followed her, a furry shadow, as she padded into the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" Duo asked, looking up from the pot he was scrubbing. "You look a little pale."

Faith scowled. "I'd rather not talk about it," she said. "Something surprised me, that's all."

"You know you _can_ talk if you want, right?" he asked. "You were awfully quiet at dinner."

"I just didn't feel like talking over everybody else," Faith replied. "I didn't realize that being quiet was considered suspicious behavior in this household. Guess I should have, though, as long as I've lived here."

Duo chuckled quietly as he started loading the dishwasher. "I missed you," he said. "I even missed the wisecracks. Everybody's been worried; all I've heard is 'How's Fay?' and 'When's Fay coming back?' ever since you left. It's been total silence except for that—it was like living in a mausoleum, with everyone tiptoeing around and acting all sad. I'm glad that's over."

Faith didn't have anything to say to that. Honestly, she just wanted an opportunity to scrape her thoughts together. Dealing with her situation on the colony wasn't any easier than dealing with it on Earth. Faith didn't know how to respond to everyone's questions about her time away, especially the ones about her dad, and she was certain that it would only get worse as time passed. At least everyone else was busy for now—the boys were doing their homework and Maggie was getting Lexi ready for bed—but Faith didn't doubt that breakfast would be a repeat of dinner, and she wasn't looking forward to another inquisition.

Faith grabbed a damp sponge off the countertop and started scrubbing the kitchen table. If she was going to be in the kitchen, she might as well make herself useful. It impossible to think over the sound of dishes being manhandled, anyway.

"Why do we even have a dishwasher?" Duo complained. "You practically have to wash everything before you put it in anyway, so what's the point?"

"You're asking me?" Faith muttered. "It's your house, Duo, and you're the one loading the dishwasher. You don't like it, don't use it. Also, that knife can't go in there."

Duo set the knife on the counter and sighed. "It's always something, isn't it, Fay?"

Faith looked at the floor. She knew he was talking about more than just the dishes, and she felt a little bad for snapping at him.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Everything sucks right now."

The plates clattered one last time as Duo closed the dishwasher and turned it on. He leaned back against the counter, looking entirely too proud of himself for completing the task. _It isn't like cleaning the kitchen is hard or anything, _Faith thought, watching him for a moment before she went back to scrubbing the tabletop. _Even the dog can do it. Kind of. _Torstin was probably just hoping to find some tasty crumbs on the floor. Faith heard him sniffing and then lapping at the tiles under the table and she sighed inwardly in disgust.

"So how was Earth?" Duo asked. "I mean, I know it wasn't exactly your dream vacation or anything, but there must have been some good parts."

"Let me put it this way," she said. "Earth was a rollercoaster and I was the kid throwing up in the back. It's hard to find any good in that."

"Not even staying with your parents, huh?" he asked. "I thought you'd at least enjoy getting to be with them."

"I'm better off here. Mom's a crazy workaholic," Faith replied. "And Dad—he said he'd never leave me again, but you know how that turned out. He pushed me off on Trowa and just walked away. That was the worst part of all. I miss him. And I hate that I miss him. And I can't even be mad about it because he did it to protect me."

She stiffened when Duo pulled her into a hug, but she clung to him when he tried to let her go. She knew she could be contrary at times, but at least Duo didn't seem to mind. He squeezed her a little tighter and Faith felt safer than she had in weeks. She blinked the tears out of her eyes and took a breath. Duo smelled like dish detergent, but Faith didn't care. She was back where she belonged, at least for a while, and that was all that mattered.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"Anytime, kiddo," he replied.

* * *

><p>"Please tell me those aren't pickles in your ice cream."<p>

"They're not pickles," Relena grumbled. "I grabbed the wrong jar out of the cabinet and didn't realize it until I was pouring jalapenos over my ice cream instead of fudge. I'm out of ice cream, though, so I'm just eating around the peppers."

She wasn't really eating around them, but she didn't want to admit it out loud. She didn't need to say anything, though—it was a video phone and Relena knew that Sally Po hadn't gotten through medical school _and_ the military without learning a thing or two about observation.

"You and the peppers," Sally chuckled. "Honestly, I don't see how you can stand it. I'm getting heartburn just thinking about that, Relena."

Relena shrugged. "I've never had that problem," she said. "When I was a little girl, my father and I used to have contests to see who could eat the most Thai food in a sitting. Poor Mother couldn't even watch us."

Relena smiled fondly at the memory. Life had been so much simpler in the days before the war. She'd had to grow up too quickly after her father's assassination. She didn't have many regrets, but sometimes she wished things had turned out differently.

It would be nice to have memories of carefree days with Faith. Almost anything would be better than their current fractured relationship, But Faith wasn't safe on Earth, not as long as she had access to Wing Zero, and Relena had to put her child's safety before her own selfish wishes.

Even if it meant being alone again.

"So how have you been?" Relena asked, scooping up another bite of ice cream. "Is Len settling back into school okay?"

"Everything's fine," Sally said. "Len told me he talked to Dak today. He's going to see if Duo will let him visit Faith while she's there. Should I let you know if I hear anything about her?"

"That would be wonderful," Relena said, smiling. "Faith doesn't talk to me, Sally. At least, not about anything important. I don't think she trusts me."

"I don't think she really trusts anyone," Sally replied.

Relena sighed. "She was starting to confide in her father," she said sadly. "At least she was up until, well, I'm sure you know what happened. I-I can't talk about it, Sally."

"I understand," Sally murmured. "How are you holding up, Relena? I know you must be under a lot of strain since Heero and Faith are away and you're going through so much trouble at work. These situations can take a toll on a person, emotionally and physically. If you're having problems, you shouldn't hesitate to call me."

Relena pushed her bowl away, her appetite suddenly gone. It didn't take a genius to figure out why Sally was calling out of the blue.

"You've been talking to Lucy," she accused. "Look, I understand that she's concerned about me being on my own, but I'm fine. I can take care of myself, Sally."

"You can take care of yourself. Right. I guess that's why you're out of groceries and you're eating ice cream for dinner," Sally said. "With jalapenos. I'm sorry, but that's disgusting, Relena."

"You sound just like Faith," Relena muttered. "All right, Sally, you win. If it'll get you _and_ Lucy off my back, I'll get myself checked out. I don't suppose you can work me in early, can you?"

"You're already on my book," Sally replied. "Seven-thirty. I thought I'd try to get you in before the clinic opens, to avoid the attention. And now I'm going to let you get back to your ice cream. See you in the morning."

Relena forced a smile and ended the call. The ice cream went into the garbage disposal. Relena wouldn't be eating anything else tonight, not if her poor, grumbling stomach had anything to say about it.

"Maybe I do need to see a doctor," she said to herself. "The last thing I need right now is an ulcer."

* * *

><p>Dak crept back into the house sometime after midnight. He'd spent the evening alone in the garage, avoiding the chaos that seemed to follow Faith wherever she went. She'd changed while she was gone; how much was open to interpretation, but Dak could see the difference in her posture, her distant eyes, and in the way she smiled without <em>really<em> smiling. She seemed so—tense. So brittle.

It bothered him, and it made him wonder if there was some truth to what Len had told him at school. It wouldn't be the first time Faith had gotten herself into trouble, after all.

A lamp was on in the living room, but for once it wasn't Maggie curled up on the couch with a book, struggling to stay awake long enough to finish her homework. Faith was sitting in the middle of a heap of blankets, running a brush through her mass of dark-chocolate hair. Her monster of a dog lay on the floor at her feet, but he sprang to attention when he noticed Dak standing in the doorway. Faith glanced up, startled, but then she smiled and Dak decided that she probably wasn't upset with him for sneaking up on her.

"Hey," she murmured. "You disappeared earlier. I missed you."

"Sorry," Dak said. He crossed the room slowly and sat on the opposite end of the couch, wondering what he should say. "I missed you, too."

It was lame, but it was the best he could come up with. Absently, he rapped his knuckles on the end table, trying to come up with something better. It seemed stupid to ask her if she was okay when it was obvious—at least to him—that she wasn't.

"I'm glad you're home, Fay," he said. Still lame, but true. "Everything's been crazy lately. I think we're all ready for things to go back to the way they used to be."

Faith's brush hit the carpet with a dull thump, and Torstin snatched it up and took off with it before Dak even registered that she'd dropped it. He stopped on the opposite side of the coffee table and watched them with eager eyes. Dak wondered how long it had been since anybody had taken the time to play with him. Even guard dogs got time off every once in a while, right?

"Do you really think it's possible for things to go back to the way they were?" Faith asked. "Eventually, somebody's going to realize that I'm not still hiding out at my mom's house. I'll have to go back when that happens. And my dad…"

She trailed off, shaking her head sadly. Torstin, perhaps sensing that it wasn't playtime after all, padded over and dropped Fatih's brush back into her lap. She scratched behind his ears and he leaned into her hand, grunting happily.

"No. Things aren't ever going to be like they were, Dak." Faith stopped petting Torstin and started braiding her hair. Dak stared at her in disbelief.

"What are you saying?" he demanded. "Your mom can't make you do _anything_, Fay. She abandoned you here thirteen years ago and let the public believe you were dead! She lied to all of us. If you don't want to go anywhere, you don't have to. Mom and Dad will back you up if you want to stay here, you know that. Fay, just give it a little time. Pretty soon you'll start to feel just like your old self."

"What about my dad?" she asked. "Preventer isn't going to do anything to help him. And I can't just sit around and let him sacrifice himself for me. I have to do something, Dak. _Before _anyone catches on that I'm here."

There was nothing to say to that. Dak recognized the determined look in her eyes. It was the one she got when she was planning crazy things, things adults told her typical teenage girls just didn't do—like building space shuttles.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I-I don't know yet," she murmured, staring down at her hands. "But I can't just let things lie. And I can't sit around and pretend everything is okay when it isn't. I'm sorry, Dak. I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, but I'm just not the same person I used to be and I don't think any amount of time is going to change me back again."

_This is _not _gonna be good_, Dak decided. _But if I say anything to Dad, he'll stick Fay on the first shuttle back to Earth where she can't cause any trouble here. That's no good either._

"Look," Dak said. "Sleep on it. Go check out our shuttle in the morning—you always feel better when you're working on a project. And really think about this. Your dad surrendered himself because he wanted you to be safe. Do you really want to put yourself at risk and piss all over his sacrifice?"

"You sound just like Trowa," Faith grumbled. "Is this a guy thing, or what? There's nothing noble about somebody just throwing their life away, Dak. It's just—waste."

Dak shook his head. "You just don't get it, Fay. Drop it. Go to sleep and maybe I'll try to explain it for you later. I'll see you in the morning, Fay; I just remembered I have to send an email before I go to bed. School stuff. You know."

"Oh. Right," she murmured. "Night, Dak."

"Night."

Dak jogged up the stairs, trying to compose his message as he went. Hopefully Len wouldn't flake out on him. Faith was in over her head this time, and Dak had a feeling he needed all the help he could get. Even if it meant trusting the guy who'd gassed the entire school.

* * *

><p>Notes: Many thanks to everyone who's read this and left a review! It makes me smile. I'm sorry it took me so long to get this finished. I just started a new job and these twelve hour shifts are eating my lunch. And then there are orchestra rehearsals...Anyway, to make a long story short, I've been a busy girl. I'm not even sure I got this chapter right...Let me know if you see any mistakes, please. I have NO idea when I'll get Chapter 5 finished, but I'm working on it!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

"We meet again."

"So it would seem." Faith frowned at the imposter in front of her, trying and failing to figure out how this was happening. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" Blue eyes met hers in a rare smile and Faith's scowl deepened when she realized Zero was mocking her. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Responsible parents make sure their kids eat right."

"You're not my parent," Faith protested. "You aren't even human. You're a machine. On Earth. And I'm in space."

He—_It? _Faith wondered, uncertain how to label this thing in front of her—seemed to be well aware of their location, given the surroundings that had materialized while they were talking. Faith was sitting in her chair at Duo's kitchen table with a glass of orange juice at her elbow. Her "dad" was…_Making waffles? What the hell? _The kitchen was warm with the oven on and the sticky-sweet smell of syrup was heavy in the air.

"Please tell me you don't honestly believe that this is eating right," Faith said. "Then again, how would _you_ know what's healthy? You don't eat."

He only stared at her, his face a perfect copy of the too-patient expression her dad wore when he knew she was deliberately stomping on his last nerve. Faith swallowed hard, shaken by the way Zero was able to pull such personal information from her memory, and wondered what it wanted.

"Let's try this again," she said, her voice soft with fear that she couldn't quite suppress. "What are you doing _in my head?_"

"That data is restricted," he replied.

"Of course it is."

Faith rolled her eyes, wishing she had more than just a bare sliver of Dak's instinctive skill with computers. Then maybe she'd be able to figure out why this was happening, and possibly put a stop to it.

It was irritating to have Zero invading her mental space at his convenience. And judging from the smirk on his face, he was well aware of that.

"You make my brain hurt," she grumbled.

"A headache is the least of your problems," he replied. "Your biggest concern is your next move."

"I know _that_," Faith murmured. "I've been thinking about it. First things first, I have to make sure my shuttle is fully functional. I can't go anywhere without it, after all. After that—I just don't know how to proceed. I haven't ever done anything like this before."

"You can start by learning to pay more attention to your surroundings," he said. "If you can't rely on your senses and trust your instincts, this mission will fail."

Faith nodded. She didn't need to ask what would happen if she failed. She took a deep breath, wondering exactly how she was supposed to learn to rely on her senses, and choked on air that was suddenly acrid.

"Is something—burning?" she asked.

"What do your instincts tell you?" He smirked at her, his expression mocking. Faith glowered, irritated that a machine would use her dad's image to make fun of her.

"My instincts tell me that you don't know how to cook," she snapped. "And, since you already said you weren't going to help me, they're telling me I probably shouldn't trust _you_ any more than I trust my real dad."

He shrugged. "Have it your way. If you're lucky, maybe you can do this without help. But it seems like you're about out of luck, kid."

"Why should that matter?" Faith demanded. "Why should I care about something as pointless as _luck_ when I have so many more important things to worry about?"

The smile he turned on her was wolfish and unnatural, not something Zero had pulled from her memories of her father. Faith jerked away and hated herself for being so weak, so easy for this _thing _to manipulate. "You were warned about what happened to the unlucky ones," he said. "Don't make me repeat it."

He bumped the table with his hip as he walked away. It wobbled and Faith watched her glass of juice tip over and spill and finally roll off the edge of the tabletop and shatter. The slivers of glass sparkled like stars against the tile. Faith bent to pick up the biggest one and gasped when it sliced across two of her fingertips.

"Holy crap," she whispered. "This is not good."

Faith closed her eyes and started when she felt a cool hand pressed against her forehead. _Is this another one of Zero's tricks, or has it decided to let me go?_ she wondered.

"Looks like she's back with us," Dak said, obviously speaking for someone else's benefit. "What isn't good, Fay?"

Faith sighed with relief when she opened her eyes and saw her siblings' curious stares. Dak was sitting beside her, not at his usual place at the table, and watching her with concerned eyes.

"You were sleepwalking," he explained. "You wandered in here about ten minutes ago and just sat down. You started talking just now; you said something wasn't good."

"I'm okay," Faith said, although her voice was shaky and thin in her ears. "It was just a dream."

"Zombie Fay is scary," Lexi said, although she didn't look particularly scared. "Daddy thought so, too."

"Oh yeah?" Faith asked, still trying to get her bearings. "What happened?"

"He set breakfast on fire," Mark told her, grinning. "Can't you tell? He's getting the big fire extinguisher out of the garage now because the little kitchen one just isn't doing it for him."

"So that was Duo burning breakfast," Faith said. Torstin nudged her hands from his place under the table and Faith glanced down at him while she patted his head, mildly surprised to see that she hadn't actually cut herself. "Weird."

"What's weird about it?" Chris asked. "Dad burns something every time he cooks. You ought to be used to that by now."

Faith shrugged uncomfortably. "Just a bad dream," she murmured, realizing belatedly that Chris couldn't hear well enough to understand her mumbling. "It's nothing," she added a little louder.

It was enough of an answer for Lexi and the twins, anyway. They went back to eating. Dak and Chris didn't look convinced, but Faith honestly didn't have anything more to tell them. She wasn't going to lie to her brothers and she knew the truth would freak them out.

"I'm okay," she said gently, persuasively. "Don't worry about me. It's probably just jet-lag from the trip."

"Right," Chris agreed. He grabbed the box of cereal off the top of the fridge and poured himself a bowl, apparently deciding that waiting on Duo was a waste of time. Dak was slower to look away—Faith got the feeling he didn't quite believe her—but she decided she didn't want to drag things out any longer. He'd calm down faster if she just tried to be herself for a while.

Even if she didn't feel much like herself at the moment.

Faith broke a banana off the bunch in the middle of the table and peeled it absently while she tried to process what had just happened. _Maybe it was_ _just a dream,_ she thought. What else could it have been? Wing Zero was still on Earth, after all, and it seemed unlikely that its cockpit system could somehow reach her from such a distance. _I don't want to think about this right now,_ she decided. _I'm just going to eat my banana and then go work on my ship. One thing at a time._

* * *

><p>"Duo, I hope this is important. This place fell apart while I was gone, and it's going to take a lot to get everything back in order."<p>

Duo winced into his cell phone and suddenly regretted calling Trowa over something so stupid. Especially since he'd left the kids alone in the kitchen.

"No," he admitted. "Faith's sleepwalking again and it just freaked me out. Have you ever seen that old TV show _Walking Dead_? It reminds me of that, kind of."

The cell didn't have video, but the brief pause gave Duo reason to believe that Trowa was rolling his eyes.

"Did she try to eat your brain?" Duo couldn't tell if Trowa was being serious or not. He sounded kinda peeved.

"Uh, no," Duo admitted sheepishly.

"Then you should probably stop watching old sci-fi shows before you go to bed," Trowa suggested. "I thought you were used to her sleepwalking, since it's related to her epilepsy."

Duo shrugged and fumbled with the handle on the fire extinguisher. "I'm used to her wandering around in the middle of the night and bumping into things, yeah," he admitted. "But this was _weird!_ She walked right into the kitchen, pulled out her chair, and sat down. She didn't stumble, or trip over the dog—who barked pretty much the entire time—or anything. And her eyes were all rolled back and gross. It was freaky."

Another pause. This time around, Trowa was probably trying to figure out a nice way to get him off the phone and get back to work. Duo sighed.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "That kid just scares the crap out of me sometimes. I'm okay, buddy; I'll let you get back to work now."

"Wait," Trowa practically interrupted. "Before you go—did you get a chance to talk to her about…yesterday?"

"I didn't," Duo admitted. "And today isn't looking so good either. We're getting a new shipment of inventory in, so I _have _to put in an appearance at work today. And then I have to take Chris to the doctor this afternoon—but you don't wanna hear about all that. The point is, I'm working on it, Trowa, but I have other stuff on my plate."

"Right," Trowa murmured. It was hard to tell over the phone, but he sounded disappointed. Or maybe a little sad. "Just let me know when you find out what's wrong, okay?"

"I will, I will," Duo said. "Now. Get back to work, slacker!"

He ended the call before Trowa could say anything else and flung the garage door open wide, giving the kids a little warning so they knew they had to start behaving again. But since he didn't hear anyone scrambling to get back to their place, he decided it was safe to assume the kids hadn't burned the rest of the house down while he'd been on the phone.

Smirking, he hefted the fire extinguisher over his shoulder and sauntered into the room.

"Gooood morning, sunshine," he drawled when he saw that Faith was awake and back to herself. "Had a wild night, did we?"

"Not as wild as _your _morning," Faith mumbled around a mouthful of banana. "You really ought to think about replacing the batteries in those smoke detectors, Duo. Preferably before we all die in our sleep."

"I don't wanna die," Lexi whimpered. "Daddy…"

Duo grimaced. So it was going to be one of _those _days. He hated the attitude—really, _really_ hated the attitude—but it was hard to argue with Faith when she was right. But there was no excuse for scaring Lexi.

He patted Lexi's head as he slipped around the table to put the fire extinguisher someplace where he could get to it in a hurry if he needed it.

"Don't be like that, Fay," he said. "I don't care what you've been through—you can still prove a point without being nasty about it."

She shot him a death glare that would have made Heero proud, but wisely kept her mouth shut. Duo gave her one last warning look, just in case, before turning his attention to Chris.

"I'm picking you up from school today, so stay where I can find you," he said. "Doctor's appointment."

"What?" Chris asked, frowning.

"Doctor's appointment," Duo repeated, slower and louder. "I don't think I need to tell you why we're going, Chris."

"Faith!" Chris yelled. "You promised!"

"I didn't tell him!" Faith yelled back. "Unlike _some _of us, _I_ know how to keep a secret. If you had just kept your mouth shut around Selda, none of this would have even happened in the first place! You ruined my life, you know that, Chris? You wrecked two lives, in fact, because my dad is probably going to die because _you—"_

Lexi burst into tears; apparently she'd had all she could handle for one morning. Duo thought he knew how she felt. He'd had about all he could take, too, and the day hadn't even really started yet.

"That's enough," he said, walking around the table again and lifting Lexi out of her chair. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and wailed into his shirt. "Boys—not you, Chris, you stay where you are—go get your stuff ready for school. Now."

The kids hustled to get out of the room—they knew trouble when they saw it, and even the twins weren't brave enough to stick around when Duo used _that _tone of voice—and he waited until he heard them on the stairs before he turned back to Faith and Chris.

"You guys are old enough that you ought to know better than to fight at the breakfast table," he said, shifting Lexi a little bit and hoping he wouldn't drop her. Damn, but she was getting heavy. "Come on. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"I think I've already said everything that's important," Faith said, obviously still pissed beyond reason. "I'm done."

Duo bit back a groan. He hated being the mediator; this was Hilde's area for a reason. Faith hardly ever lost her temper and Duo had no idea how to deal with her when she did, except leave her alone and let her cool off. But it didn't seem like that was the right way to handle her today. This was the sort of issue that was going to snowball into bigger problems if Duo let things go even for a little while.

"Faith," he said, sighing, "It is no secret that you're unhappy. And I'm not trying to say you shouldn't be—you have every right to be upset over this situation, and it isn't unreasonable that you're looking for someone to blame. But you can't pin all this on Chris. It wasn't deliberate. He didn't even _know _about your parents, or about the Red Fang, or Selda's connection to them, until it was way too late for any of us to stop things from turning out the way they did. Do you really think he would have let you down like this if he had known what was going to happen?"

Faith bit her bottom lip and looked away, and Duo knew he wouldn't have to worry about her bursting out with wild accusations again.

"And Chris? Son, next time try to get your facts straight _before _you put your foot in your mouth. Two of your teachers called me last week; they're concerned about the way your grades have been slipping and they asked me have your hearing checked again."

"Oh…"

It didn't take a lot to figure out that Chris was feeling _really _stupid. Duo decided that his work was more or less done. Hilde probably would have handled it better, but Duo didn't think she'd disapprove of his methods when he told her about it later.

"Now," he said, after giving the kids a second to let things sink in. "I'm not going to demand a public apology or anything, but I am going to insist that you two finish this discussion on your own time. Chris, go get ready for school while I help Lexi get her stuff together for daycare and ballet."

Chris left silently. Faith stayed put, staring at the glass of orange juice by her elbow. Duo didn't mess with her; since she'd been signed out of school, there wasn't really anything she needed to do.

"Maggie already put all my stuff in my backpack," Lexi said, her voice still quivery with tears. "Before she had to leave for practice. Can I play softball like Maggie, too, Daddy? I wanna be on the team with the big girls."

"I thought you wanted to be a ballerina," Duo said, shifting her again so he could snag a napkin off the table and wipe her face before she wiped it on his sleeve.

"I'm already the best ballerina ever," Lexi replied seriously. "Dak said so. So now I'm going to be the best softball player ever, too. Like Maggie."

"Uh-huh. That's nice, princess." Duo decided to just be happy that she wasn't crying anymore. If he'd learned anything at all from being a parent, it was that there was no easy way to have a logical argument with a weepy five-year-old. "Let's just go get your backpack, okay? Wanna piggyback ride upstairs?"

"I can get it by myself, Daddy," she said. "You don't have to _carry_ me. I'm not a _baby_."

Duo couldn't come up with an argument for that, either—he wasn't quite ready for Lexi to be so independent, but rationally he knew that she couldn't be the baby forever. And if he wanted her to grow up right, he had to let her learn to do things on her own.

It sucked that it had to be today, though.

"Alright, kiddo," he said, setting Lexi back on her feet. "But let me know if you need anything."

"I'm a big girl," Lexi shouted over her shoulder as she ran for the stairs. "I don't need help!"

Duo bit back another sigh and started cleaning up, picking up dishes and pushing chairs back under the table. He shoved the last one a little harder than he'd intended and Faith's dog bolted from its hiding place at her feet. Duo jerked out of the dog's way, bumping the table with his hip as he tried not to get run over.

The table wobbled—he never had gotten around to fixing that one stupid leg—and Faith grabbed for her glass as it started to tip, snatching it up so fast that she sloshed orange juice all over the back of her hand.

"Nice catch!" Duo cheered, grinning at her. Faith looked up at him, but she wasn't smiling. Her face was sickly pale and she just didn't look so good. "Fay?"

"It was just a dream," she said. "That's all. I need some air."

And then she took off, too, and Duo was alone in the kitchen and more confused than ever. What the hell was going on with that girl now?

* * *

><p>The library wasn't a good place to talk before class, at least not at a school where some kids valued their grades more than their lives, but Dak would take what he could get. His fingers tapped on his knees and his toes tapped on the floor, and he didn't even try to get himself under control. He figured it was cool as long as the librarians didn't say anything.<p>

"Look," he said. "All I'm saying is that Fay seems like she's a little down. I thought it might help if she could hang out with some of her friends for a while. That's all. I did _not _just give you permission to date my sister, Len."

Len smirked, and Dak resisted the urge to punch that smug look off his face. This wasn't going well. He hadn't exactly gotten his hopes up or anything, but he really needed a break here and it just wasn't happening.

"She's not your sister," Len pointed out. "And if you really were her brother, she'd kick your ass if she ever heard you say she needed your permission to do anything."

Mentally, Dak kicked himself. He'd walked right into that one. Len was right—Faith was going to murder him if she ever found out about any of this. _But it's for a good cause_, he reminded himself, determined to stick this out. _She needs help. Something. _

"Additionally," Len continued, "I thought you guys didn't normally hang with us regular mortals. Whatever happened to your secret, hush-hush science projects and your rock band?"

Dak shrugged. "Fay's working on the shuttle today, actually," he said. "But I don't think we're doing the rock band anymore, at least not for a while. Too much other stuff going on."

And that was all Dak was going to say about that. Because _Chris_ would murder him if he ever found out about Dak bringing up his hearing problems to anyone outside the family, and that wasn't such a good cause.

"That's too bad," Len said. "I went to one of your shows. You guys were pretty good."

"Whatever," Dak muttered. "Are you going to help me or not?"

Len thought about it a second, pretending to study something out of his binder, while a librarian drifted past. Dak kept his head down, too, and tried to keep his hands and feet still; he didn't feel like getting a lecture for distracting people who were trying to work.

"Okay," Len said when the coast was clear. "Here's the deal. I'll go along with this, but if I feel like asking Faith out, I'm going to do it. And if _you _do anything to get in my way, I'll tell her all about your little plan to keep her distracted and busy. Got it?"

Dak shook his head. "Forget it," he said. "This isn't going to work. I'll come up with something else on my own."

"If you're going to be like that, I might tell her anyway," Len said thoughtfully. "She does have a right to know when people are trying to manipulate her."

Dak decided he should have done a little more research into Len's character before letting him in on such a delicate plan. But it probably wouldn't be hard to convince Maggie to help out, and Dak didn't think Maggie would let Faith get too deeply involved with Len. She had an amazing talent when it came to picking out the douchebags in a crowd and, even better, she was as tenacious as a bulldog when it came to protecting Faith.

_I don't know why I didn't just start with Maggie,_ Dak thought disgustedly. _That would have been so much better than this._

Len cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the clock. Class started in two minutes; they really didn't have a whole lot of time left to debate.

"Fine," Dak grumbled. "I'll talk to her tonight and we can figure out a time and a place. We'll probably bring another friend of hers, too. Have you met Maggie?"

"The redhead?" Len asked. "I've _seen _her, but we've never really talked. Is it true what people say about her?"

"Yup," Dak said, although he had no idea what Len was talking about. People said a lot of things about Maggie. Only about half of them were true, and most of _those_ centered around whether Maggie and Faith were just friends or whether they were secretly a couple. If that was what Len was referring to, well, it was a lot more satisfying to just keep him guessing. "I think it's safe to say that you've got competition, buddy. And Maggie's the jealous type, too, so you might want to watch your back."

Okay, so Dak wasn't entirely certain about that last part, but Len didn't need to know that. He forced a grin and crammed his binder into his backpack just as the bell rang. Len practically shot out of his chair; it seemed he wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of hanging out with a lesbian, and Dak was going to enjoy watching him squirm.

"I'll email you tonight," he said to Len's retreating back. His fake smile turned into a real one as he realized that—if Len was really as homophobic as he seemed—this had the potential to be a lot of fun.

* * *

><p>Faith cursed quietly to herself as she surveyed the shuttle in Duo's spaceport dock. The parts she'd needed had come in while she was away and it looked like the boys had tried to install everything on their own.<p>

Without reading the schematics first.

The design called for two layers of shielding, a thick one underneath to protect against radiation and space debris, and a thinner one on top that would burn off and break away during atmospheric entry, helping to dissipate heat and pressure changes and prevent the shuttle itself from breaking up.

Somehow, they'd managed to get the layers switched, and it was going to take Faith days to get it right again. The radiation shields were heavy and the big pieces had to be fitted together just so or she might as well not use them at all. The entry shield was made up of roughly three hundred ceramic tiles and while they weren't heavy at all, it was going to be time-consuming to remove them, fit the radiation shield into place, and then reapply the damn things.

"I hope the Red Fang gives me enough time to finish this on my own before they try anything," she said to Torstin. "But other than that, I don't see any problems with fixing this up by myself. I need something to keep me busy while everybody's in school anyway. I can do this."

_And I definitely need something to keep my mind off what happened this morning_, she thought, unwilling to even broach that particular subject out loud. It was just too weird, the way she'd _known_ her glass was going to fall, just like it had in her dream, to be a coincidence.

But it had to be, right? Because there was no way stuff like that happened by design. Faith shook her head, brushing the annoying thoughts away, and started sorting through Duo's tools, figuring out what she would need and setting them where they'd be easy to reach.

Her fingers closed around the big wrench, the one longer and thicker than her arm, and her breath caught in a ragged sob. The memory hit her like lightning, and there was nothing Faith could do but ride out the storm.

_Faith crouched by the door, gripping the wrench like a baseball bat and hoping she wouldn't need it. She'd managed to elude her kidnappers by going through the back entrance of the women's restroom and taking a service hallway to Duo's dock._

_But that wouldn't hold them off forever. They'd find her sooner or later if Trowa and her dad didn't get to her first. And this time, since it wouldn't put her brothers and sister in immediate danger, Faith wasn't going to make it easy for them._

_The keypad outside beeped softly as someone punched in a code. Faith heard the lock click and tightened her grip on the wrench. _

Faith shook her head to clear it—the memory storm dissipated when no one came through the door—and set the wrench back where it belonged. She picked up the tool she _did _need and started for the ladder so she could get to work loosening the heavy panels of radiation shielding. If she could set a good pace, she could probably get them all off by the end of the day and get started on the more time-consuming aspect of the job—removing the hundreds of thermal panels—tomorrow.

It went well for a while as Faith settled into a routine, quietly pleased to be working alone and at her own pace instead of slowing down to accommodate someone else, until Faith became aware of the sensation of someone watching her. She kept working, certain it was Torstin and trying to ignore it, but the feeling grew more persistent and she finally had to stop what she was doing and look over her shoulder.

And sure enough, leaning against the closed door, was an all-too-familiar person. His arms were crossed over his chest and his face was carefully blank. Faith bit back a scream.

"This can't be happening," she said, swallowing hard and staring back into Zero's soulless eyes. "I'm not on Earth. I'm not asleep. You can't _really_ be here."

"You were warned, Faith," he said seriously. "Do you remember what I told you the day we went to Sanc? About the people who weren't strong enough to master the Zero System?"

She'd never forget it. She couldn't forget it, even if she wanted to, and he knew that. But somehow, Faith felt like he was trying to get her to say it out loud. To admit what she was beginning to suspect might be true.

"The lucky ones died," she whispered. "The unlucky ones went crazy first."

The aura took her by surprise, a wash of vertigo and nausea. Her muscles spasmed and she lost her grip on the ladder. Unconsciousness followed; the darkness came before she hit the floor.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes<strong>: Hey, look! I finally updated! I really want to thank everyone who's been following along and reviewing so far. Sorry if I didn't get around to replying to individual reviews; I've been sick a lot lately, and I'm still trying to get back on my feet. I can't remember who got a response and who didn't, and I finally just gave up on that. So my apologies if you didn't hear from me.

Anyway, I do hope this chapter was worth the wait! I had to cut a couple of scenes because I couldn't get them to fit smoothly in with the rest of all this, but they'll either turn up in the next chapter or in my oneshot compilation, Between the Lines. So...Thoughts? Feelings? Speculations? Please let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

Betrayal came naturally to Arielle. She was, after all, the daughter of a spy and a traitor, the granddaughter of a terrorist, and the twin sister of, well, Selda was really just a bitch. The only problem in this case was deciding which side was most advantageous for her.

It was why she'd come to visit the prisoner again, hoping to figure out where she should place her loyalties. Ari was aware that she was little more than a pawn in the grand scheme of things, but she knew she could be very useful in the hands of the right player. She had intimate knowledge of her grandfather's plans, as well as access to his security clearance now that he was getting so absentminded. If Ari wanted, she could probably turn the Red Fang inside out at this point. It was just that, at least up until now, she'd had no personal reason to do so. Their vendetta against the Gundam pilots, particularly Heero Yuy and his family, had nothing to do with her, after all. But it was becoming clear that keeping this man in their custody would _not _be beneficial for Arielle. If—or rather, _when_—they were caught, she would most likely be charged along with all the other Red Fang members and everything she was supposed to inherit, the legacy her grandfather had spent a lifetime building, would be lost to her.

But at the same time, it wasn't easy betraying the only family she'd ever known. Which, again, was why she had come. To see if the prisoner had anything better to offer her.

Unfortunately, he wasn't feeling very talkative at the moment. Keeping him in a gravity-free chamber was taking its toll on his health, and he seemed to be suffering from a most unpleasant infection. Ari's mind raced as she tried to figure out something she could do that might alleviate his discomfort, even just temporarily so she could get answers.

She didn't have a whole lot of power when it came to the prisoner, or anything other than following her grandfather's increasingly unusual orders, but she did have a few tricks up her sleeve. Things that might get him angry enough to talk to her even in his current state.

"I checked my news feeds after I left here yesterday," she said casually. "It seems that your daughter has pulled another disappearing act. No one knows where she is except maybe the Preventers, and they aren't talking."

"They wouldn't," he replied. Ari waited for him to elaborate, but when he didn't continue, she pushed a little harder.

"You know what I think?" she asked. "I think she went back to the colony where she was in hiding all those years. Familiarity is comforting when someone is distressed."

The look he focused on her was speculative. Thoughtful. Ari hesitated while he considered what she'd told him, but after a few seconds he looked away and closed his eyes.

"What is this obsession you have with Faith?" he asked. "What is she to you?"

The words were on the tip of her tongue—_My grandfather still wants her life, even after that deal he struck with you—_but Ari couldn't say them. That was her last secret, the one she'd keep close to her heart until she _knew _she had to play it. And maybe not even then, if she decided to take her grandfather's side in this game.

"Why, she's the one that got away, of course," Ari said easily. It was true, even if it wasn't the truth she was keeping so desperately to herself. "Faith is that brilliant person who comes along once in a generation, the person whose ideas are going to change the course of history, and we lost her. With Faith on our payroll, Kiba could have finally crushed Winner and become the biggest corporate enterprise in the entire Earthsphere. That all seems unlikely now, and we have only ourselves to blame."

"At least you're learning from your mistakes," he said. "You can't force people to do what you want. No matter what you might have learned from your old man. It always backfires in the end."

"Hm." It was Ari's turn to look away, to pretend she didn't like what she was hearing although she secretly agreed with him. She _was _learning, albeit the hard way.

He started coughing then, so hard that Ari had to stare at the floor so he wouldn't see the pity in her eyes, or the helplessness. She gave him her bottle of water—the guards had gotten so used to her visits that they'd stopped barring her from bringing things in days ago—and thought hard while he drank. He rarely spoke much, except to argue or point out holes in Ari's reasoning, but he was usually a little more tractable than this. There _had _to be something she could do to get the answers she needed without outright tipping her hand and revealing her last secret. Additionally, it would be an injustice if he died of a cold after everything he'd survived. Worse, even, than the execution he would face in a week or so when they reached their destination.

_Ah_, Ari realized. _Of course. The solution is simple; I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner._

"Keep that," she said when he tried to give her bottle back. "You need it more than I do. I have an appointment, but I'll come see you again. I hope you'll feel up to telling me a real story next time I visit; this is much more fun when you talk to me."

"We'll see," he replied hoarsely.

Ari did her best to sweep out of the room. It wasn't easy without gravity to help, but the guards needed to see her looking her most authoritative.

"Kenji," she said, summoning her translator to her side and switching back to Japanese. "Tell them to secure the guest quarters and transfer the prisoner there. He's going to get worse and die if we leave him in that closet much longer."

Kenji looked doubtful. "On whose authority, Miss Ari?" he asked. "They won't take orders come from us."

"Grandfather's, of course," Ari replied. "I think you'll agree that Grandfather would not be pleased if our prisoner doesn't make it to his execution. If they give you any problems, tell them that they'll be the ones who are blamed when he dies of something that could have been prevented."

"Right," Kenji agreed. Ari waited patiently while he translated for her, but the guards didn't question the orders. They had been well trained. On this ship, in this organization, Satoshi Kiba's word was law. And now that Kiba was in decline, Ari had a suspicion that her word might become law as well, so long as she was careful.

It was a good thought, Ari decided, one that might make her something more than just a pawn. She smiled as one of the guards rushed to make the appropriate arrangements, and walked back to her quarters with a spring in her step that had nothing to do with the ship's weak artificial gravity.

* * *

><p>White. White walls. White sheets. White clothes. White noise, somewhere far away and in the background. It smelled white, too, like bleach and antiseptic used to erase less-desirable scents from the air. Faith lifted a hand—her arms were inexplicably heavy—and realized that even her skin seemed unusually white.<p>

It was disconcerting. Disorienting. Dis-dis-something. The color was mind-numbing, sinking into her brain and making it impossible to think clearly.

"Where am I?"

Faith tried to think back, but the last thing she remembered was Zero, and the certainty that she was going insane. She didn't like that train of thought—especially since it didn't tell her how she'd ended up in this place —so she pushed herself into a sitting position and tried to get her bearings without relying on memory.

If she was really going crazy, it was possible that her memory was no longer reliable. Maybe that was why Zero had told her to learn to rely on her senses and trust her instincts. Maybe it was safer to try to exist solely in the present.

_What do my instincts tell me?_ she wondered. So far, she hadn't gotten anything useful from her senses. Except that it was white, white, white, and her head hurt like crazy, and she was beyond exhausted, and her back hurt as it did after very bad seizures when her body contorted itself into excruciating unnatural positions. Her clothes were gone, too, replaced with an ugly white shirt-thing, and Torstin was nowhere to be seen. Faith hoped he was okay.

Her instincts said it was time to explore, see what this place had to offer a potential escapee, and possibly find her clothes, dog, and backpack. Faith threw the sheets back and whimpered when pain struck again, this time in her left hand.

A needle was taped in place there, and a tube attached the needle to an IV bag. Faith stared at it numbly for a moment. Awareness of the needle brought awareness of other anomalies—suction cups stuck to her head, her chest, an oxygen sensor clipped to her fingertip. How strange.

_I've been drugged_, she realized. A Red Fang spy had drugged her before, stuck her in the back of the neck with a needle before she'd realized what was happening. _I've been kidnapped again. How did they find me this time?_

The first step, the easiest one, was ripping off the suction cups and unclipping the oxygen sensor. The next step was a little more daunting, but more essential as well. Faith pulled the IV out, and when the machine it was attached to started beeping unhappily, she started punching buttons until it stopped. "Nuh-uh," she said to the box. "Nobody finds out I'm awake until I'm ready for them."

She stood up. The floor was cold to her bare feet. Her legs felt weak right at first and she had to lean on the bed frame to stagger over and lock the door. It wouldn't hold anyone for long, but at least she'd have a moment's warning when her captors came back.

_I wonder if Dad is here, too,_ she thought. She'd been keeping track of him with the program on his cell phone and, if everything was still working as it should, it appeared that the Red Fang was taking him deeper and deeper into space. A rendezvous would mean days, if not weeks, of travel, and Faith didn't think she'd been out that long.

Although, since it looked like they were drugging her, how could she be sure? She looked around the room, searching for anything that might give her a clue to her location or to the duration of her capture, and came up empty.

_Maybe I'm still dreaming, and this is another one of Zero's simulations,_ she thought. But it felt too real for that. She could usually find clues when Zero was manipulating her, and there were none of the usual signs here. It was almost too bad. Failure within the Zero System was frustrating, but at least she'd survived all of those encounters up to now. Failure in this place came with the certainty of capture or, very probably, death.

The doorknob rattled. Faith heard somebody on the other side calling for a key and took her place close to the wall, where she'd be behind the door when it opened. As she'd hoped, her empty bed bought her a few seconds of confusion when her captors came into the room and Faith used the time to slip behind them through the open door.

There wasn't much time to assess her situation; there were too many strange people rushing around, distracted by some chaos that Faith simply couldn't take into account. Her brain was too fried, possibly from the drugs, to process all of this information at once, so she simply looked for something familiar.

The red-lit exit sign was the most welcome thing Faith could see. She made a beeline toward it, walking quickly and hoping she wasn't attracting too much attention. They'd be on her in a second, whether she made it to the door or not, and this time she wasn't going down easy.

Forget non-violence. Screw pacifism. Faith was tired of being pushed around, snatched, and doped up. She was never going to be anybody's victim again and if that meant knocking a few heads together, well, so be it.

* * *

><p>"This isn't a social visit," Hilde noted as soon as Duo came into her hospital room. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"<p>

Duo made room on the bed next to Hilde and held her tight, hating the way she smelled like sickness and hospital but loving the way she fit so perfectly beside him. In a lot of ways, Hilde was the reason he got out of bed every morning. She read him like a book, and she always knew the right things to say. Not just to him, but to everyone.

Duo had no idea what he'd done to deserve any of it, and that only made it even better.

"I messed up," he confessed. "Again."

"Oh?" she asked, squeezing him back tightly. "What have you done now?"

"I left Faith alone at the dock," he said. "I thought she'd be safe there since she can lock herself in, and I was hoping she'd feel better if she could work on her ship and keep herself busy. About an hour after I left, I got a call from security. Somebody put in a noise complaint about a barking dog and when they went to check it out, they found Faith unconscious on the floor. The paramedics couldn't get her to come around, so they brought her here."

"My God," Hilde murmured. "How is she, Duo?"

Duo shrugged uncomfortably. "They're still checking her out. So far, the only thing that's obvious is exhaustion, but I could have told them that. She's always kept weird hours."

"She does like to burn the candle at both ends," Hilde said, smiling slightly although there was nothing funny about the situation. "Did you call Relena?"

"No," he said miserably. "I don't want to scare her. I thought I'd wait until I get the test results back. It isn't like Relena can leave Earth to come up here and be with Faith, so why make her worry any more than she has to?"

Hilde pressed her lips together into a firm line, but she didn't say anything. Duo had a feeling she disagreed with his decision, but apparently not enough to argue the point.

"You didn't leave Faith alone down there, did you?" Hilde asked. "You know how much she hates waking up in hospitals."

"There should be a nurse watching her, so she isn't _alone _alone," Duo replied. "I don't think she's going to be up any time soon, and I couldn't just sit there and watch her sleep. It scares me to see her like that, babe. She looks so fragile, like a doll, and I know she's so much stronger than that."

"Of course she's fragile, Duo," Hilde argued. "It's hard enough being a teenager, and her entire world just turned upside down on top of that. At least we have her back now, for a while, and we can give her a little stability as long as she's here. How's she settling in?"

Duo shrugged again. "She's quieter than she used to be, and less in control of herself," he said. "Trowa said they had some sort of argument on the ride out here, and then she and Chris got into it at breakfast this morning. I need to sit her down and see if I can get her to talk things out, but I haven't had a chance yet."

Hilde was quiet again, thinking, and Duo let her be. If anyone could tell him the right thing to do in this situation, it was Hilde. She always had the best answers, even if he didn't always like them, and Duo knew she'd come through for him again if he just gave her enough time to think.

"Maybe I should come home," she said finally. It wasn't what Duo had been hoping to hear. "It sounds like you really need another adult around the house."

"No," he replied firmly. "You need to stay here. Stay here and get better; I can't do this without you, Hilde."

She chuckled softly, and Duo couldn't quite suppress a shiver. This wasn't exactly a humorous subject. Not to him, anyway.

"I don't think you understand, Duo. The only reason I stay in the hospital during my chemo phases is because it's easier on you and the kids. I _can_ do this as an outpatient treatment instead. It won't be easy, but if you need help—"

Duo silenced her with a kiss and forced himself to break away when it threatened to become more. God, it had been too long…

"No," he said again, gently this time. "Give me a little bit longer, Hilde. I may not be Superdad, but I think I can figure something out. And if I can't, well, we still have this as an option. Alright, babe?"

"Alright," she agreed, smiling.

An alarm shrieked, startling them both, and the emergency lights started flashing in the halls. Duo rolled his eyes.

"They always do pick the most convenient times to hold fire drills," he muttered. Hilde grinned and nodded.

"Mr. Maxwell?" A nurse poked her head in. "I just got a call from downstairs. They're asking for you in the emergency room."

"Duty calls," he said to Hilde. "I guess they want a guardian present with Faith while they're doing their drill. I'll be back as soon as I have something to tell you."

"I know," Hilde replied. "Get outta here! Love you!"

"Love you, too, babe."

* * *

><p>The alarm sounded a breath before Faith made it under the exit sign. The automatic doors slid shut in front of her, and she was so close, <em>so close<em>, that she could hear the lock click into place. Faith spun around, but she couldn't see any other means of escape.

And everyone was staring. _I'm being held in a medical facility,_ she realized, noticing the scrubs and lab coats for the first time. _I had no idea the Red Fang was this well-connected. They practically have their own hospital!_

"Miss? Miss, we need you to come back to your room. You really shouldn't be out of bed."

The orderly approaching her was a big fellow. He seemed calm but cautious, and Faith had a feeling that he was used to dealing with unruly people. She stood her ground and watched him approach.

"Come on," he said, reaching for her arm. "Let the doctors finish running their tests."

Faith let him take another step toward her before she thrust her knee into his genitals. He dropped like a rock and another man who'd been sneaking up on her right took an involuntary step backward.

"Sorry," she said. " I don't know who you are or where I am, and it was bad enough for you guys to abduct me and hold me here against my will. I'm not going to be your guinea pig, too."

Somebody called for security. Faith clobbered him with a metal tray she swiped off a conveniently located cart. Then she shoved the cart into someone else. Chaos erupted around her, but Faith was focused on the doctor. White lab coat. Red necktie. She'd bet anything that he was the one who'd drugged her. There were too many people around for Faith to get away, but if she could just get her hands on that doctor before they subdued her, she'd strangle him with his own ugly red tie.

_Red Fang_, she thought. _That is my target._

It was like time stopped as soon as the decision was made. Everyone else seemed to be in slow motion, and suddenly Faith could see all of the patterns in their movements. The nurses were mostly focused on keeping their patients safe. Two more orderlies were creeping up on her, but they had seen what Faith did to their companions and fear made them slow. Faith avoided them easily. The security guards were a little more threatening with their stun guns, but Faith was still faster. One of them shot at her; Faith sidestepped and the electrified prongs caught his partner in the stomach.

"Way to go," she said as the guard dropped his stun gun and grabbed for her instead. She ducked under his reaching arms and slammed her elbow into his trachea, putting as much of her weight into the blow as she could. He fell to his knees, gagging, and that was it. The alarms were still blaring, the exit doors were still locked, and Faith knew she didn't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting out of this place, but there was nothing between Faith and her enemy now.

She stood in front of the doctor, trembling with exhaustion, but unwilling to back down. She didn't have the strength to fight much longer, and he knew it. He was trying to conceal a syringe in his right hand, and Faith _knew_ that he'd jab her with it and knock her out again if she came into his reach.

But that was okay. Faith knew what to do in the same weird, oddly methodical way that she knew what everyone else was going to do. She hit the floor and lashed out, kicking the doctor's feet out from under him and grabbing for the downed security guard's stun gun at the same time. Unfortunately, the doctor was stronger and faster, and he stabbed the syringe into her leg just as she brought the stun gun up and fired. The doctor's eyes rolled back and he went limp, thankfully away from Faith so he didn't send the stun gun's current through her, too.

Time went back to normal as soon as Faith's target was subdued. Suddenly, the facility was very busy again, and a lot of people were crying. Some of them were screaming.

One of them was even screaming at her.

"Dammit, Faith, I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?"

It was impossible to turn around and look for the voice behind her. She'd overexerted herself again, and the muscles she'd strained during her last seizure were screaming now, too. Faith simply rolled onto her back and looked up instead. Duo was standing over her, hands on his hips, and he looked _pissed_.

Which was utterly hilarious. Was he mad at her for rescuing herself? No, it had to be something else, something that wasn't immediately obvious to her. Maybe whatever she'd been stuck with was starting to kick in and that was why she couldn't figure it out. Whatever the reason, she was glad to see Duo.

"How did you get here?" she asked him.

"I walked downstairs from Hilde's room," he replied. "You're at St Jude's, kiddo. In the ER. You fell off a ladder at the dock, remember?"

Faith nodded. She did remember that, and Zero's unwelcome appearance, much as she didn't want to. And if she was in the emergency room, that meant that she hadn't been kidnapped. Which meant that she'd just gone apeshit on a bunch of completely innocent people. It shouldn't have been funny, but it was. Faith bit down on her giggles, though; she still didn't trust that red-necktie-wearing rat bastard of a doctor, and it was important that Duo knew who was to blame for all of this. She pointed at the jerkwad, who was curled up at her feet and obviously still suffering the effects of the stun gun.

"Red Fang," she told him. They were the words she could manage; her tongue felt fat and clumsy in her mouth. Which was also _really_ funny. Duo frowned.

"You better be right about this, kid," he said as he knelt and scooped her up, away from that awful doctor. "Or you're going to be in a _lot_ of trouble."

Faith wasn't all that worried about trouble. The sedative was seriously working now and it would probably be a long time before she'd be up to worrying about anything. Especially now that Duo was here. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her, so Faith decided her next best move was to hang on to him and sleep off the injection. She could worry about getting herself out of trouble later, when she was alert enough to do something about it.

* * *

><p>Notes: Many, many thanks to everyone who's reading, favoriting, reviewing, etc! You guys make my day!<p>

So this chapter did not go as planned. It's a good thing-my original plan was pretty tame, and it just would have been boring...Just out of curiosity, though, do the scenes flow well together? The middle two scenes are happening at pretty much the same time, and I'm wondering if that's coming out clearly. This chapter was actually about a scene longer, but I decided that that last part would work better as the first scene of Chapter 7, so I axed it for now. It just wasn't a good place to end...Which is not such a good thing since now all my careful planning for this story is way off track. I can get back to where I need to be, but it's going to take another chapter or two. Anyway. It's my birthday and I'm not working any more tonight. I'm going back to partying. There's a six-pack of Mike's in the fridge with my name on it and I'm tired of waiting. So yeah. I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

"My daughter did what?"

"She fell off a ladder," Duo repeated. Relena stared at the vidphone in disbelief. Was he deliberately misinterpreting her question?

"No," Relena said. "I understood that part. What I'm fuzzy on is how a ninety-pound teenage girl managed to sneak out of a hospital room and injure _six_ _people_ before she was subdued. How could you let that happen? And why didn't you call me sooner? You're supposed to be watching out for her, Duo!"

"Uh—" Duo trailed off and looked at something off-camera, presumably his shoes. Relena pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to fight the headache that had been building since her early-morning appointment with Sally.

Personal issues were making it hard to be objective. She knew Duo was doing his best; it wasn't his fault that Faith was entirely too much like her father. Relena decided she should just be relieved that Faith hadn't successfully completed her escape attempt and leave it at that.

"Forget it," Relena sighed. "It's done, it's over, and all we can do is move forward. How is she now? And _where _is she?"

"Faith is fine," Duo said. "She has a few bruises from her fall and she's still a little woozy from the sedative, but it's nothing too bad. She's in Hilde's room here at St. Jude, and all I know so far is that they want her to see a shrink."

It wasn't exactly good news, but it sounded like things weren't as bad as they could have been. Faith was strong, like her father, and she would recover with time. All Relena could do was try and be as supportive as possible while Faith worked her way through the sorrow.

Now if only that could be as easy as it sounded. Relena sighed.

Faith's problems were just the tip of the iceberg. Thinking about her daughter in the hospital sent Relena back to worrying about her own medical problems, and the home test kit that she had hidden in a paper bag in her purse. Just in case the one she'd taken for Sally had been a false positive. _Oh, this is _so _not a good day,_ she thought.

"What about the emergency room doctor?" Relena asked. She could think about her own problems later, once she knew Faith was okay. "Is he really Red Fang?"

If he was, would he have any information about Heero? Relena wasn't sure she wanted to know. She couldn't take much more bad news. Her blood pressure was skyrocketing, at least according to Sally, and she couldn't afford that right now. She'd already decided that if her husband ever made it back home, for the sake of her health and sanity, she was putting him on a leash. A short one.

"Trowa doesn't think so, and he's looking into it personally," Duo said. "I think it's just a misunderstanding. Faith came to in a strange place, spotted a guy wearing red, and flipped her lid. It happens."

_Only in my family,_ Relena thought. _And only because Heero's penchant for destruction seems to be hereditary. Oh, God. If he doesn't get back here in one piece, I'm going to kill him myself. I can't handle his offspring on my own._

"Is there anything I can do?" Relena asked. "You don't need a lawyer, do you?"

Duo waved a hand dismissively. "I wouldn't worry about it," he said. "Nobody's complaining much, except that ER doc who just wants to get back to work; it seems to be water under the bridge."

"That's something, anyway," Relena murmured. "Duo, did you get the holodisc I sent you?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Relena was grateful that Duo was smart enough not to mention anything else about the holodisc or her message on a monitored phone line. It was risky enough bringing this up at all, but she needed an answer. She needed to know if sending Faith back into space was the right decision.

"I'm going to assume that you haven't had a chance to talk with her," Relena said. "But please try, Duo. She's been so distressed, and nothing I've done has had any impact on her. I just don't know what else to do."

"I'm already planning on it," Duo said. Relena didn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about all this. "Piece of cake. Cheesecake, even."

_Ugh._ Cheese was a bad word. A very, very bad word. Relena swallowed hard and hoped she didn't look as green as she felt.

"Are you okay?" Duo asked. Relena decided that she must look exactly as green as she felt for somebody as thick as Duo to notice. "Because this really isn't as bad as it sounds, Relena. In fact, it's—"

"I have to go," she interrupted. Because she was about to be sick again and she didn't want to do it in front of Duo, even over the phone, and it sounded like she'd already heard everything important. "Make Faith call me later."

She didn't—couldn't—wait for a reply. It took all the control she had left just to hang up the phone and run for the trash can.

* * *

><p>"Well that was weird," Duo muttered. "She went all pale and hung up on me."<p>

"Faith said her behavior has been erratic recently," Trowa said without looking up from his notes. "I don't understand why you even bothered calling her. She's only going to worry."

Duo shot him a funny look. "There are some things only a parent can understand," he said. "Trust me, you'd want to know if it was your kid."

It was hard to argue with that. And, to be honest, Trowa was glad Duo had called him specifically instead of just calling Preventer's local office number. This was _his _case. Even if Faith still wasn't talking to him.

"Do you have anything you want to ask Dr. Lockford before I release him?" Trowa asked, sliding his notes across the table for Duo to read. "He checks out. Unless you see something I missed, I don't have any reason to hold him and he seems genuinely concerned about getting back to work."

"Heh," Duo chuckled. "He's pretty hardcore, going back to work right after getting tased. If it were me, I'd take the rest of the day off."

Trowa shrugged. Had he been in Dr. Lockford's place, he probably would have gone back to work as well. They were alike in a lot of ways—no spouse, no family nearby, few friends outside work. Why go home and be alone when you could work through the pain? Maybe if, as Duo had put it earlier, there were some things only a parent could understand, there were other things only a person with no real attachments could understand.

"This looks good to me," Duo said after skimming over Trowa's notes. "All I want to know is what's going on with Faith. I think we'll all feel a lot better when she's out of here and we don't have to worry about her going nuts again. I still can't believe she did that."

"You can't believe she did it or you can't believe she was capable of it?" Trowa asked. Because security had video to prove beyond a doubt that Faith did injure all of those people.

"Both," Duo said at last. "She's always been against violence. Sure, she'll defend herself if somebody pushes her far enough—she broke another kid's nose at school a while back—but this was extreme. She's never had any kind of training unless you count roughhousing with the boys. And she's so little…"

Duo trailed off, shaking his head and looking bemused. Trowa chuckled softly.

"I just wonder what Heero would do right now, that's all," he explained when Duo eyed him strangely. Duo grinned.

"Probably the same thing he used to do when she was little," Duo said. "He'd give her a piece of his mind, let her think he was disappointed in her, and then—once he was sure everything was okay—he'd go outside and laugh his ass off. I didn't even realize he _had _a sense of humor until he had a kid. But then, oh man, the stuff I could tell you! He used to put her up to all kinds of things just to see what she'd do."

Trowa wanted to ask. He reallywanted to ask. But unfortunately, he had an unhappy doctor to release and stack of paperwork to fill out, and there just wasn't time for any more of Duo's long-winded stories. So he gathered up his files and headed for the door.

"Let me know if you hear anything suspicious," Trowa said as he stepped out of the office they had commandeered and into the hall. "Otherwise, I think we're finished here."

If only it could really be that easy, though. There was still the doctor. The reports. The supplements, if there were any. Then it would be time for Trowa to wait for a real break in the case, or for Une to decide his presence was no longer needed and release him. It would be good to _really_ be finished with all of this, to have the Red Fang locked up and Faith talking to him again. And it would be even better to hang up his Preventer uniform for good and go home once everything was all said and done.

Finishing everything was going to take years, though. The Red Fang was good at hiding itself, and the court system was slow. Trowa knew how to be patient, though, and he knew that the only way to cope with a journey this long was to take it one step at a time.

And the next step was the doctor. Jonathan Lockford, twenty-eight, just a few years out of medical school. Trowa ticked off the details in his head, memorizing them in case he needed them for later. It was part of his routine, but he doubted that he would need the information; Preventer had everything on record, after all.

The two agents he'd set to watch over the doctor's room were still there, luckily, but Trowa frowned when he saw that they'd found a table somewhere and set up a game of cards.

"You're too lax," Trowa said, wondering if he should confiscate their deck. They only stared up at him, obviously confused.

"Until you hear otherwise, the man in that room is a suspected terrorist," Trowa explained. "For all you know, he could be building a bomb or attempting suicide in there. You're supposed to be watching him. Not playing Go Fish."

"But—"

"I don't want to hear it," Trowa said. "You're both dismissed. I expect reports on my desk by the time I get back to the office."

Not that the reports would be done by the book, but it would be more evidence to present to Commander Une in regard to his coworkers. Something needed to be done about the agents stationed here, and maybe even the agents on other colonies as well. As far as Trowa could tell, none of these people had been properly trained and he had no idea where to begin correcting them. The two agents in front of him had yet to follow orders; they clearly were displeased that he, a stranger, had been given command of the outpost here. But that wasn't Trowa's problem. If they wanted to complain, they could take it straight to Une and then she could see for herself how undisciplined her people were. He pushed past them into the room where Dr. Lockford was waiting.

"So I'm still a suspected terrorist?" the doctor asked loudly. "I have to say, I thought you Preventers were better than this."

"Cut the crap," Trowa replied. "I get enough of it from the uniformed agents here. I don't need any out of you, Willow."

Lockford, better known to Trowa as Reserve Agent Willow, laughed. Trowa put some serious effort into not rolling his eyes. It would only make things worse.

Willow was one of a handful of trusted agents Une had pulled up from the reserves and planted undercover on the colony to help look after Faith. Aside from Trowa and Wufei, they were the only Preventers who knew the real story behind Heero's disappearance and they were under strict orders not to talk. As Trowa had learned from his previous job on the colony, the local office was understaffed in addition to being under-trained, and he was grateful for the extra, experienced, eyes.

Even when those eyes came attached to immature pains in the ass like Lockford. Trowa remembered the doctor as the one with all the obnoxious questions from the briefing session.

"Pull up a chair," the doctor said, leaning back in his own seat and putting his feet on the desk. "Fill me in. That was Zero's kid with the stun gun, wasn't it? God, she looks just like him, right down to that horrible, cold stare. Jesus. I thought she was gonna kill somebody for a second there."

"That was Faith," Trowa said. He hesitated, then decided it wouldn't hurt to ask. "You knew Zero?"

"Knew him?" Lockford asked. "He was in charge of my training class. I thought he was trying to kill us—and we were just reserves! Zero's the reason I decided to go back to medical school and finish my degree. I didn't want to be a full time agent; I'd go crazy if I had to work with a guy like that on a day-to-day basis. Why? Did you know him, too?"

Trowa shrugged. Unlike Duo and Heero, who were known to the public as former Gundam pilots, he'd managed to leave his past mostly in the past. As a reserve agent himself, he'd also managed to avoid being the topic of much agency gossip, so it was unlikely that anyone knew that he and Heero were friends, let alone former allies during the war. Lockford didn't need to know the truth, and he was smart enough to figure it out if Trowa gave him anything to go on.

"You just hear a lot about the guy," he offered. "He's become sort of a legend, you know? I wonder how many of the stories about him are true."

"All of them," Lockford replied. "After meeting him, I'd believe anything you told me about the guy. Anyway. You're in charge of this operation, so I'm assuming you got more of the background than I did. What's up with his kid? Is she psychotic? She's kind of a firecracker, that's for sure."

Trowa didn't think Heero would appreciate somebody calling his daughter a firecracker in that tone of voice, but he kept that thought to himself and stuck with what was important.

"It's just like they told you at the briefing," Trowa said. "We had a breech and Faith was abducted by a rogue agent. Zero exchanged himself for her safety. This morning, Faith mistook you for a member of the organization that was behind the whole incident and assumed she'd been kidnapped again. She believed she was acting defensively."

Lockford's mouth turned down at that, his wiseass demeanor disappeared, and Trowa could see the real reason the man had chosen to stick with medicine over law enforcement. There was genuine concern in his expression, a compassion for a stranger who'd attacked him a short time ago, and Trowa's respect for the doctor rose just a notch at the sight.

"Let me out of here," he said. "I need to make sure she's okay. God, I hope they haven't put her in with the psychos. That'll just scare her even more."

Trowa got the door. "Don't let her know who you are," he said. "She isn't too fond of Preventer at the moment—she's blaming us for letting Red Fang take her father—and it would be bad if your cover was blown."

"No shit," Lockford muttered. "I'm not one of those fucktarded uniforms who needs to be told when and how to wipe my ass like those guys you left to guard me. Get out of the way and let me get back to work. I'm not going to be doing any of us any good if you get me fired from my cover job, _boss_."

And the compassionate doctor was gone, just like that. Trowa let Lockford go. He'd do his job—both of his jobs—better without being micromanaged. As long as his reports were submitted on time, Trowa didn't have anything more to say to the man.

* * *

><p>"You know, a little cooperation goes a long way," the doctor said. Faith scowled.<p>

"You stabbed me," she grumbled, sitting ramrod straight as he peered into one of her ears and made notes on a clipboard. "With a _needle_."

"Yeah, well, you tased me," the doctor replied, mimicking the snippy tone she'd used on him. "With a _stun_ _gun_. I think it's time to call it even."

Faith rolled her eyes. Now that she knew the doctor was just another stupid doctor and _not _Red Fang, she had bigger things to worry about. And they were not the sort of things she could discuss with a total stranger.

It was time to talk to Duo. No one else would understand. Faith didn't think her dad would mind much, even though he'd made her promise to keep the gundam secret, since he wasn't around to help her himself. He trusted Duo. She knew that.

"We're almost done," the doctor said. "Just say 'aah' and get it over with."

Faith rolled her eyes and opened her mouth. Silently. Because the doctor was entirely too cheerful for a man who'd been stun-gunned just a little while ago. It creeped her out a little and she couldn't bring herself to completely cooperate with him.

"I thought you were just an emergency room doctor," Faith said when he was done examining her tonsils. Or whatever. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged and capped his pen. "Nobody else wanted you." Whispering theatrically, he added, "They all think you're _crazy_."

"Crazy, huh. Is that a technical term?" Faith asked. "I don't think you're supposed to talk to patients like that."

"I'm just pulling your leg," he said. "You look like you could use a laugh. But you really did scare the living crap out of a bunch of nurses back there. I bet they would say you're crazy if I went and asked them."

"They don't know the half of it," Faith replied. "I went to Dalton. Also known as the boarding school created exclusively for eccentric and differently-abled. You should tell those nurses that we prefer to be called gifted. Or maniacal geniuses. Whichever sounds best."

"Well, maniacal genius or not, you're in a lot of trouble," he said. "You know there are a couple of people who think we should lock you up and throw away the key, right?"

_Yeah_, Faith thought, unsurprised. _Add my name to that list, will you? If this keeps getting worse, I'll probably _need _to be locked up. I don't want to go crazy…But I don't know how to stop it from happening._

"What about you?" she asked. "What do you think of me?"

He took a step back and looked her up and down a minute. And then he grabbed one of her bare feet and straightened her leg out, looking at the fresh, pink scars that stood out against her pale skin.

"You do this to yourself?" he asked, the cheerfulness gone from his voice as he examined the damage to her leg.

"No," Faith said. "I was sitting too close to the window at Jake's Café the morning that van blew up. Dad saved me from the worst of it, but…"

Faith trailed off. She didn't want to remember the van. The numbness that had filled her to the brim that whole, miserable walk home, or her own vicious burst of temper afterward. But she couldn't stop the memories from coming.

Sometimes it sucked, being unable to forget.

"Oh, Dad," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She couldn't stop herself from saying it out loud. She only wished she could say it to his face. That she was sorry. For all of this. Of course Dr. Lockford wouldn't know that she was talking about her _real_ dad, not Duo, but that didn't stop the tears from pricking at her eyes again. When she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry over him anymore.

Dr. Lockford passed her a box of tissues.

"I'll go get your folks," he said gently. "And then we'll see about getting you out of here. Okay?"

Faith nodded and blotted the tears away, wondering why the doctor was suddenly being so nice. It wasn't the crying, was it? As a doctor, he probably saw people cry every day. He couldn't be _that_ much of a pushover. Could he?

* * *

><p>Notes: Thanks so much for all of the reviews and birthday wishes! You guys are the best! Okay, down to business. This is about half the chapter I originally intended to write, but it feels complete enough that I decided to go ahead and post it as it is. A cut scene is going up in Between the Lines tonight, too, so look for that later if you're reading the oneshots. It's better than nothing, right?<p>

I hope everyone had a great summer! Mine has been such a blur. I can't believe it's over so soon. I'm starting a new full-time job tomorrow, in addition to trying to get my own small business set up, so my hands are full right now. I also play in a semi-professional orchestra and we have a concert coming up next Monday. (Which will be AWESOME! I can't wait!) Whatever free time I have left ends up going toward housework and errands, and I just haven't been able to squeeze in much writing time lately. I'm doing my best, though! One day this story will be complete! All questions will (hopefully) be answered! Seriously, though, feel free to ask me anything. I may not have time to answer you in person, but barring that I will do my best to answer you in the story itself. Which might be kind of fun, come to think of it.


	8. Chapter 8

The house was still, at least for his house, but it wasn't quiet enough to arouse suspicion. The TV blared in the living room, competing with a stereo upstairs and Dak drumming by himself in the garage. Those simple noises were all signs that the kids were occupied with something constructive, relaxing, or doing homework, which was just the way Duo liked it. Especially after he'd had to spend most of his day in a hospital.

He was making his rounds, checking on kids, turning off lights in empty rooms and just generally winding down for the night, when it occurred to him that something _was_ wrong in his peaceful household. Somebody was baking in the kitchen—he could smell cookies—and Maggie was upstairs getting Lexi ready for bed.

Duo sighed as he pushed the swinging kitchen door open. He was getting really tired of having to be the bad guy.

"This doesn't look like resting," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing Faith with a glare. He knew he'd never beat Heero in a staring contest, but he hoped it was enough to get his point across.

Faith only shrugged. Her face was corpse-white and she slumped in her chair, elbows on the table, chin on her fists, as if she was too tired to sit up anymore without the tabletop to support her. Mark and Luke sat across from her and since the twins weren't cracking jokes or making a mess, Duo could only guess that Faith's drained appearance had shocked them into behaving themselves. For once.

"She's making cookies," Mark said.

"She says we can't have any," Luke added.

The twins were doing their homework—without being asked, begged, or bribed—and Duo didn't want to send them packing unless he had to. It was a wasted effort anyway, since the two little sneaks would just stand in the hall and try to listen in no matter what he did.

It usually wasn't a big deal since Duo preferred to keep the lines of communication wide open, to encourage the kids to come to him if they had any problems, but this time he didn't want them to have the full grasp of what had been going on. So instead of bringing up Wing Zero—which he honestly didn't even want to think about, let alone talk about—or why Faith was avoiding Trowa, Duo stuck with the most immediate, and most innocent, gripe that presented itself.

"Faith," he sighed, trying to ignore the boys for the moment, "What are you doing in here? You're supposed to be in bed."

"It's called baking, Duo," Faith said. Her low voice was so flat with exhaustion that she sounded eerily like her old man, enough that it gave Duo the creeps. "Like Wingus and Dingus just told you. I'm making apology cookies for all the people I beat up today. Chocolate makes everything better."

"Since when? You hate chocolate, Faith."

"Other people like it."

The oven timer beeped and Faith started to push herself up from the tabletop. Duo stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and went to retrieve the tray of cookies from the oven himself. There was a spatula nearby, and he grabbed it and started carefully moving cookies onto a cooling rack. Maybe he wasn't much of a cook, but this was something he could handle.

"Can we have apology cookies for being called Wingus and Dingus?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, can we?" Luke echoed.

"Pipe down," Duo muttered to the twins. "If you boys are out of homework, I'm sure I can find some chores to keep you busy."

"Homework," the boys said at the same time.

"Lots of it," Mark added.

"Tons," Luke agreed.

Duo rolled his eyes. They were laying it on a little thick, and he could only guess that they were waiting for Faith to drop her guard so they could see where she stashed the cookies. Mark and Luke were far from unintelligent, but they were immature enough that they still didn't look too far beyond personal gain. It was unlikely that they'd figured out that something serious was going on behind the scenes in their lives, or that Duo was trying desperately to keep it that way. In the background, hopefully unnoticed and unknown forever.

His experience with the gundams had marked him for life, made him a target and a slave to his past, and occasionally forced him to act as a messenger of death. Knowing that one of them—the most dangerous one ever built, in his opinion—still existed was like the bad old days coming back to haunt him. He wasn't about to let that past touch his kids any more than it already had. If he did, then Faith's grim condition was just the beginning of his troubles.

Lost in his thoughts, Duo didn't see Torstin's tail poking out from under the table until he almost stepped on it. He stumbled, trying to avoid the dog—fervently wishing Relena hadn't sent the damn nuisance animal back with Faith—and dropped the spatula. It fell neatly into Faith's waiting hand, as if she'd planned the whole thing.

"Nice catch!" he said.

It was the same thing he'd told her that morning, he remembered, when she'd panicked over snatching a falling glass before it could shatter on the floor. Beneath Faith's bemused expression, Duo read the edge of fear behind her eyes as he took the spatula back from her.

Things started clicking into place. Relena's warning. Faith's odd behavior. The fight at the hospital. It all added up to one thing—Zero's influence, and more of it than Duo thought he knew how to deal with. It was time to call in reinforcements.

As casually as he could, Duo set down the spatula and turned to the kids.

"All right," he sighed. "You two take your tons of homework upstairs where there aren't any cookies around to distract you. Go on, pack it up."

"What?" The twins stared up at him with their most innocent—and therefore most guilty—expressions. "But _Dad—"_

"Nope." Duo cut them off mid-gripe. "Don't wanna hear it. It's almost your bedtime anyway, so get going."

The boys crammed their stuff into their backpacks and went, grumbling the whole way. He heard their feet on the stairs and knew they hadn't noticed anything more serious than the cookies. If they had, the little scamps would have stayed nearby to eavesdrop.

"You, too, Faith," he said. "It's time to do what the doctor said and get some rest. If you don't want to do that here, I can take you back to the hospital. Your choice, kiddo."

He meant it, too, and not just because he needed Faith out of the room. He was supposed to be taking care of her—which was something she obviously needed right now—and if another trip to the hospital was what it took to get her back in the pink, Duo would drag her there kicking and screaming if he had to.

"Like I want to spend another _second_ in that hospital," Faith muttered. "Jeez, Duo, what's with you all of a sudden? You're planning to eat all my cookies as soon as my back is turned, aren't you?"

"And ruin my schoolgirl figure?" he asked innocently. "Hilde would kill us both. And then she'd run off with the guy in the short shorts who delivers packages to the office. All over a couple of cookies. That is _so_ not happening, Faith."

Faith's startled burst of laughter was its own reward. The hug was a nice bonus. And the fact that she went to rest while her cookies were still cooling on the counter was a miracle. Duo put the rack on top of a cupboard—where he thought it would be safe from anyone who happened to walk in hoping for a snack—and ducked outside with his cell phone. With Dak in the garage and the house full of rugrats, the van was probably the only place he could make a private phone call.

He just hoped somebody he trusted was around to pick up.

* * *

><p>Dak sat back on his stool and swiped a sweaty arm across his forehead. His shirt was soaked through and his arms were as limp as cooked spaghetti.<p>

Drumming was intense when you did it with passion. Normally it was a good way to work off stress without having to go any farther from home than the drum kit in the garage. But Dak still couldn't relax, even after a session that had left him breathless and trembling.

_Too much going on_, he decided as he began cleaning up. But that was why he'd gone out to the garage to practice in the first place. When Dak played his drums, he could get lost in the moment, totally absorbed into the space between one beat and the next. Then, when it was time to put his things away, his mind was clear and he could concentrate on important things without warring thoughts and emotions clouding his judgment.

"Is Dad in here?"

Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot he could do about his brothers clouding his judgment.

"No."

Short answers were always best when it came to Chris. The guy was as deaf as a bag of rocks without his hearing aids and, if Dak's observations were correct, about as intelligent. Dak tried to avoid his older brother as much as possible; when Chris failed to solve a problem with logic, he usually made a last-ditch attempt to solve it with his fists. Dak was more than tired of being the butt of his brother's solutions.

"Oh." Chris looked thoughtful for a second. "Do _you_ know anything about nanotechnology, Dak?"

It wasn't the question Dak had been expecting. Chris wasn't usually interested in anything more complicated than changing the ring tone on his cell phone.

"Nanotech is tiny robots, Chris," Dak said, trying to stick with small words. "It's mostly an experimental field. Lots of people are studying what can be done with it right now."

"Yeah," Chris said. "I was looking into a study earlier. I wanted to ask Dad about it."

Dak thought Chris was barking up the wrong tree there—their dad preferred to work with things he could _see_—but he really didn't care enough to discuss it further. He had other things on his mind, things that were more important than experiments being conducted in other places by other people. Like what the hell was going on with his sister. Dak's area of expertise was computers, not people, and trying to figure out what Faith was thinking was like trying to teach Chris how to write software. It just wasn't going to happen.

Chris turned to go and Dak realized that his older brother's observations might be useful after all. As much as Dak hated to admit it, Chris happened to be very good with people. Maybe he knew something Dak didn't.

"Hey—Chris, wait."

It was a good thing Chris could read lips; Dak had mostly forgotten how to sign. Up until now, Chris's hearing aids had been effective enough that he'd never needed to become really proficient at it.

"What?"

Dak sighed, wondering how to bring up the thing that had been bothering him all night. It was a touchy subject and he wasn't sure Chris would understand.

"You remember this afternoon, when Dad sent us to check the dock and get Fay's stuff?"

"Yeah."

"I found a phone with Faith's things while I was cleaning up. Preventer standard issue, just like the one Trowa has."

"So?"

"So I think it must be hers, to replace the one that got stolen when she was kidnapped. But she never gave me the number. Why not?"

Chris shrugged. "Hell if I know," he said. "She probably hasn't had time; she only got here yesterday. Why? Is it that big a deal?"

Chris didn't get it. He didn't know what it was like, though. To have just one real friend. Just one person who really got you. Chris was a jock; he was the kind of guy that came packaged a dime a dozen and he was popular on top of that, even if he was slowly going deaf. If one of Chris's friends suddenly bailed for a better life, somebody else would step right in to take that person's place. Dak, on the other hand, didn't know what he'd do if Faith left again. But he wasn't going to say all that in front of Chris.

"Forget it," he said. "I'll ask her later."

Chris shrugged again. "Whatever."

_Whatever_, Dak thought mockingly as he watched his brother walk back into the house. Chris just didn't understand, and Dak wasn't going to waste his breath trying to explain. He went back to his drums, cleaning up quickly so he could go inside and email Len again. It was time to put Operation Keep Faith Distracted into action.

Okay. First it was time to come up with a better name for their plan. And then they could put it into action. Soon.

* * *

><p>"<em>GOOOOAAL!<em>"

It was good to have some noise in the house, Relena decided, even if she wasn't a hardcore soccer fan like her five-year-old nephew. Which was, if she was being completely honest with herself, part of the reason she'd invited Lucy and Gio over for dinner.

The house was too quiet when she was alone. It was just too big and empty, and situated too far from civilization, for Relena to feel entirely comfortable in it on her own. At least it was now that she knew what it could be when it was full of life and light.

"When is Uncle Heero coming back?" Gio asked as the game switched over into a commercial. "He likes soccer."

"He likes pretty much any sport," Relena agreed, reaching down to ruffle Gio's hair. "I don't know when he'll be back, Gio. It might be a long while this time."

Or it might be never. This wasn't an ordinary job and, although Heero wasn't an ordinary person, he was still human. Gio was too young to understand that, though, and Relena couldn't keep grappling with her fears for Heero's safety. She needed to look after herself now—which was the primary reason she'd decided to throw this little party.

"I think it's time for some ice cream," she said. "Lucy, why don't you come help me dish it up? And Gio, you can stay here and let us know when the game comes back on."

"Okay!"

Relena's stomach churned at the thought of ice cream, although it had sounded great when she'd gotten her assistant to pick it up that afternoon. She rested a hand over her grumbling abdomen and decided to pass on dessert. If she started puking, Gio would, too.

"You still feeling sick?" Lucy asked, clearly concerned. Relena shrugged.

"That's part of why I asked you to come tonight," she said hesitantly. "I was hoping you and Gio might agree to stay here with me for a while. At least until I know how things are going to work out with Heero and Faith. I'm not sure I want to be alone."

Relena thought she probably could have phrased it better when Lucy's expression changed from a concerned frown to wide-eyed worry.

"Do we need to increase your security?" she asked. "I thought things were dying down."

"No, it's not that," Relena said, although it probably wouldn't hurt to put another guard or two on duty at the office. Just in case. "It's just that I haven't been feeling so well. I don't like being alone when I'm sick."

"Is it that bad?" Lucy asked. "What's wrong? Did Sally say?"

Relena shook her head. "It's inconclusive. Sally wants to do more tests Monday morning before she'll confirm anything. But it's fine. _I'm_ fine, and I already know what's going on. I think I would just feel better if there was someone in the house, that's all."

"Relena—"

"Nausea. Mood swings. Cravings—I swear I've eaten a whole jar of jalapenos today. I've been through this before," Relena said, cutting off what was certainly a lecture about needing to take better care of herself. "I'm afraid I'll start fainting next, and I don't want to be home alone if I pass out. That's all."

"Fainting?" Lucy's concern turned to suspicion. "And what do you mean, you've been through this before? Relena, what have you been doing to yourself?"

Relena couldn't keep a lid on her smile anymore, even though she knew she must look crazy. She hadn't wanted to spill the beans yet, not before Sally confirmed it, but she had to tell someone. Sometimes, in those rare moments when she could draw her mind away from worrying over Heero and Faith, she felt so ecstatic it was hard to breathe.

"_Before_," she repeated, her words coming out in an excited squeak. "Before Faith."

Understanding dawned in Lucy's eyes and suddenly Relena wasn't the only one grinning like an idiot. "No," she whispered. "Really? _Now_?"

"Really. Now." Relena repeated, feeling warmth flush her cheeks. "I'm going to be a mom again."

* * *

><p>Notes: I miss you. Many thanks for all of the love you guys have shown me while I've been so busy with work. This place-and this story-keeps me going. This chapter's a little shorter than I had originally intended, but I think it's okay. I've been cutting things from my original plan, trimming the story so maybe I'll be able to get updates out sooner. Anyway. Please let me know what you think!<p> 


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